08 March 2015

On Intimacy

The water turns cold, and a yelp escapes my lips; I huddle under the stream, waiting for the warmth to return.

He slides the curtain back and peeks in, holding his razor in the hand not holding back the plastic, concern in his eyes, in the scrunch of his brow, the set of his mouth. I shake my head to dispel his worries, reassuring him with a smile. He reciprocates, puckers his mouth for a kiss, which I gladly deliver. He retracts; I listen to the whirr of his razor as I work a lather between my hands.

He finishes and the only sound is that of the water hitting the floor. The curtain rustles again and he steps in, flinching as the water burns his skin. I kiss it softly in apology- I like my showers sweltering. I watch as he reaches around me and turns the knob a little to the right, looking to me for permission. I nod, and step aside for him to wet his hair. 

It's an awkward dance- the tub too narrow for the both of us, the shower head too low for his towering frame. Still, the soft upward turn of his lips sends my pulse racing. I feel heat building below my stomach.

Ignoring that, I face away from him and reach for my shampoo; once I've squirted some into my palm, I feel his fingers brush against my hips. He pulls my back flush against his chest and drops kisses onto my shoulder and bicep as I wash my hair.

We dance again, exchanging places so I can rinse the soap from my hair. His blue body wash slides over his chest, and I can't help myself: I reach out and rub my fingers in sweeping circles across his collarbone, his sternum, his stomach, sliding dangerously low down his hips...

A few more ungraceful maneuvers, and then we both finish washing ourselves. Yet we remain under the water, letting it slide over us. He wraps his arms around my back and drags me to him, lowering his lips to mine. It's a soft kiss, a gentle kiss; his hands are flat on my back, pressing me into him. Our lips are closed, they move slowly. This kiss is nothing more than I love you and I love you too passing between our clasped mouths.

And yet my desire for him has never been stronger than in this moment.

No comments:

Post a Comment