MFM: Breathing

Kudos to Ang, the Sweltering Celt, for her website’s new home, and for giving us this week’s MFM theme: Breathing.

This was a control issue.

I wanted to pull out all of my usual maneuvers. She wasn’t having any of it. After months of talking every day across the thousands of miles that separate us and more than a week of being in each other’s presence during her month in the States, I was now straddling her lap, my cleavage at eye level. She knows me too well for having known me such a short time. She anticipates my moves and shakes me off. Her eyes gleam, half-lidded from the bottle of wine we’ve shared, a smile plays at her lips. Those lips. I want them on mine. Now.

I always get what I want when I want it. I’m like Veruca Salt that way (not the band, the other one). But she isn’t giving in and I’m frustrated. She knows it and says it. “This frustrates you doesn’t it? You hate it when you aren’t the one in control. When you aren’t getting your way.” I pout and flash my eyes. It’s not working. I refuse to move. I want what I want and I want it now. I think I see her giving in. Leaning up toward my mouth, hers slightly open. I lean down, my lips parted. She pulls away, laughing softly. I should be aggravated but I am intensely intrigued. Does she know how much this game is getting to me? Does she feel my heart race? Is my lust for her that palpable? She knows. I’m sure she knows.

An eternity passes before she gives up the prize. Our lips playing upon each other, my sigh into her open mouth, the talking, the teasing, and then…that one sweet moment when the kiss becomes a tangible thing. An event. A happening. When the chemistry takes over and you become insatiably hungry for one another and no one else will do. I fall into her deep, soft, long, lingering, passionate kisses.

And she takes my breath away.

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