Although the desire to touch verging on painful, she holds her ground, allowing her eyes to take in the perfection of his form, their lingering descent clinging to every ripple and muscle of his tall frame, to the smooth skin of his taut stomach.
Walking a little unsteadily towards him, her heat escaping in shallow breaths, she reaches out one lone delicate finger, skin finally meeting skin, cream meeting caramel, and slowly follows the trail of fuzz disappearing into the waistband of his bulging grey sweats.
4 comments:
Desire, anticipation, fever pitch...oh, that feeling is just amazing. Nothing compares to it, really. Those last few frozen instants before the first touch. The electricity is palpable. Bravo!
-- PB
Delicious anticipation - how it makes the moment of contact even more electrifying...
I'm glad to hear you felt the crackle and sizzle, PB!
I like the delicious part!
Heehee, thanks Os! I'm happy to oblige...
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