It must be the testosterone blasting through my veins, but it’s also her, with her hair falling in waves to her waist, her eyes sparkling like crystals in the sunset’s light, her smell, her touch, and the proximity of her lips to my skin.
She pulls back at the last moment and tips her eyes to her attire.
“Do you like my clothes? I have nothing else to wear. I should’ve gone shopping today.”
She keeps talking, her words making it to my ears, but my brain floats in a nebula of thoughts. I can’t focus on a damn thing.
All I know is that I want this woman.
Not now. Not only in my bed. And not only her body. Not only her lips, her touch, her softness wrapped around my dick.
I want to have her in my life.
To share my life with her.
To have her at home.
To talk to her.
I want to wake up with her and fall asleep with her. I want to kiss her lips and tits and sex.
I want to watch her dress up and undress for me. To feed on her smiles, her words, her touch. To let her permeate my mind, my world, and my history.
I want her to be mine.
She keeps talking and gesturing, telling me something about her pencil skirt and sleeveless top.
I nod, agreeing to something. I have no idea what… That I like her clothes, I guess. I do like her clothes, but there is much more in my head.
She flashes a smile, and I’m completely gone, staring at her without making much sense.
Eventually, I jolt out of my stupor, excuse myself, walk to the closet, and then to the bathroom to clear my head.
* * *
RAVEN
First,a smokey, musky smell with a hint of sweetness floats in the air.
And then his footsteps resonate across the bathroom tiles.
I spin around and take him in while he exits the bathroom, freshly shaved, rolling his sleeves up to his wrists, his eyes tilted down.
His cologne is intoxicating, like a sex potion mixed with a dash of filthiness. It makes my skin react with tingles and my body with a soft pull inside my abdomen.
It makes me think about dirty, delicious things. Like fucking someone wildly, being crazed, and out of control.
Devouring them.
I push my wild thoughts back, gently biting my lower lip while taking inventory of his attire. His dress pants fit him deliciously, highlighting his groin, hips, legs, and hard butt.
A smooth dress shirt slides inside his pants, buttoned up but not all the way to the neck, open at the neckline, stretching across his broad shoulders.
His shoes are black like his pants, and his shirt is a warm silky shade of dark amber like my eyes.
He is tanned from last week, the bronze setting off his blue-gray eyes.
His hair is swept back and tousled slightly, giving him an enticing bedroom look. His upper lip glistens with tiny beads of cologne.