My hands on his sides I kiss his belly, kiss up his chest and undo the top button of his jeans.
“Show me,” I say standing back, “slowly.”
“Mmm,” I say, “Turn around.”
My fingers down his back, lingering at the places that make him moan.
“Oh, mmm, Zo,” he says.
I’m gentle, caressing, exploring. My palm down his bottom.
I kiss his back.
The feeling, like warm water, spreads through me.
… Sunday morning slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt.
It’s just starting to get light. I’m sipping a latte at the little cafe and watching for him.
I think about yesterday; my hand on his belly, his green eyes in the sun and then he comes around the corner. Jeans, blue shirt. He looks happy.
He heads toward the apartment. I’m holding the latte in both hands.
He glances across the street, he sees me and smiles that Jesse smile.
My heart warms.
I wonder if other people think about fucking me as often as I think about fucking them.
He’s at the computer.
"It’s hard for me to work on this when you’re naked," he says.
"I know," I say.
His fingers burn my skin with desire.
…people who smile while they are fucking.
Masturbation is often a good solution.
…Sitting in the bath tub at his parent’s house, talking, until the water is cold.