Our Eyes meet
Sparks Fly
My heart quickens
As I watch you
The careless curl of your hair
Your quirky half-smile
Strong, gentle hands at work
A half-hidden tattoo on your arm
I am transported
Imagining your hair damp with sweat
As you writhe beneath my hands
Pulled tight by the rope threaded through it
Imagining that smile
Alight with carnal pleasure
Twisted in a moment of ecstasy
As you lose yourself inside of me
Imagining your hands
Pulling my hair back to expose my neck
Running over my body
Delicately and roughly
Imagining your tattoo
Stroking it as we cuddle
Seeing it flex as you stretch
Watching water cling to it in the shower
You look at me then
Breathless I await the words I long to hear
My face lights up like an autumn sunset as you say
“Medium mocha to drink in?”
2 thoughts on “Ode To The Cute Guy Who Served Me In A Coffee Shop Literally One Fucking Time, Seriously Why Am I Like This?!”