Just Once

Guys are sentimental and emotional as well.

Sitting there between my legs,
my hands touching your neck,
gliding over your shoulders,
gradually increasing pressure,
my skin touching yours;
I withdraw.

Tentatively I touch your hair,
pulling it off your back,
giving me access to your neck
that forms a perfect runway
down your rigid spine
where I dig my fingers in
and massage the stress
right out of you
until I stop.

I hesitantly touch you again,
running my hands over
your symmetrical shoulders,
pushing away the fabric there
to give me better access,
to ensure a better view
of flawless skin
the color of milk,
the texture of silk
and I continue to rub
just to feel you under my skin;
my hands cramped
and I ignore the pain
to ensure the pleasure
that goes along with
my skin upon yours
until I make an excuse
and again I stop.

I leave to catch my breath,
flushing thoughts of you from my mind,
thoughts that should not be there,
thoughts that invaded against my will,
thoughts I can not seem to force away,
until I return.

Expecting to find you gone,
instead you are sitting there
complaining of the cold
with a blanket wrapped tight around you.

I watch you for any reaction
to the words I have whispered
in your perfect little ears,
but I find no reaction at all
and perhaps that is the medication,
or perhaps it is the sleepiness
that has taken over your hazel eyes,
but whatever it happens to actually be,
I take it to mean what I want it to mean.

So I slide in next to you,
distant right at first
moving closer
and closer
until I am
once again
touching you.

And I melt.

My night ended right there
with you pressed against me
my hands occasionally roaming
when I meant for them to stay put

And when you laid
your head on my chest
I stopped breathing
and wished that moment
would never end.

Not much else mattered
when you melted into me.

Until we realized the hour
and it was time to depart,
the words you said to me
touched me deeper
than you meant them to.

You told me I was comfortable
and you would fall asleep
there in my arms if you did not move.

How I wished you did not have to move
and I did not have to leave.

You were tired.
You were medicated.
You were not thinking like I was
and I pushed it all aside
telling myself that
it will never happen again.

But now I cannot sleep,
now I cannot breathe,
now I cannot think
without you being right there,
still in my arms,
your shoulder pressed into my ribs,
comfortably uncomfortable
and wishing I could stay that way.

Author's Note

an event that will not leave my head

(After rereading this I realize it needs quite a bit of work. Any and all feedback will help me make it better)

Reviews

[Laura Maidah]

I don't like "flesh". It sounds contextually like foreskin. This part is smoking:"giving me access to your neck
that forms a perfect runway
down your rigid spine
where I dig my fingers in
and massage the stress
right out of you"

Diction is common IMHO here:"Expecting to find you gone,
instead you are sitting there"

"time to depart,".. Hmm. Do you mean time to part? like part ways? Or depart? If it's depart, I'm fairly certain it'd be better off if you specify where to or from where. Location is embedded in its vey denotation.

The medicated line is abrupt. Split tone. It raises a hanger in your motif. It's left out, unresolved. I kept waiting in vain for you to get back to it.

The shoulder into ribs can be accenutate with shoulder blade/angel wings. Just a thought. Overall, this is pretty steamy. Someone had fun.

[w]

I changed flesh to skin and am continuing to work on everything else. Thank you for every word.

[K.]

stunning,
absolutely wonderful writing, you write so gracefully that I felt every touch and emotion that you depicted,
beautiful work sir.

[w]

Thank you so much Katherine.

[Falling Leaf.]

Lovely, just lovely. Your emotions are right on the surface. I love it.