Friday, September 25, 2015


We're in close proximity.  He's leaning against the concrete, gazing up at the stars, his arm around me.  I can feel his breath against my hair.  We talk in wonder and of the vastness, his arms envelop me, mine fall to his side, searching for the warmth of his skin.

He brings his hand following the ripples of my body, up along my shoulders, to my neck, the breathing catches, hearts palpitating, fingers up along my chin, across my lips, kissing me, desiring me, we turn together.

I press him up against the coldness, he pulls me up against his form. My hair burries itself in the crevice of his neck. 

My lips graze his exposed skin, my hand holds me firmly against him, while the other explores the tendrils falling from his scalp.  I grasp them and turn his head away, exposing him further as my teeth begin to run along his shoulders up to his ear.  

We then kiss and breath turns into desire, longing, need.  Hands explore the warmth while the swirling wind pushes us ever closer together.

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