Friday, November 20, 2009

tracings

she lightly closes one eye and looks through the other, tentatively tracing the outline of a door frame, finishing at the floor, then starting over again backwards. forwards, then backwards, faster and faster-

"what are you doing?"

she had thought he was asleep. she turns to him, his face turned to hers now, his eyes large despite his awakening.

"tracing."

"tracing what with what?"

she gives him a smile and brings her finger up between their faces. she watches his eyes cross, then uncross.

"your finger?"

she nods.

"what are you tracing with your finger?"

"turn your head."

he does so and closes his eyes.

she pulls her head back a little further and begins to trace his profile. she traces it slowly: the top of the hair line with the odd strands poking every which way, down to the flat forehead that rises higher than where the sunken eyes rest below the eyebrows. the nose, she remembers he thinks is too small and pointed, and she thinks is just right. she plays the trace against his lips, then down his stubbled chin, over the adam's apple - she could have traced further but his peaking right eye distracts her.

she meets his eye.

"are you done tracing?"

"no."

she throws off the blanket that is covering him mid-chest, then continues to trace. a relatively flat line until she meets the thigh from her perspective-

her hand must have been a little close as he immediately grasps her hand and his erection as his lips close around her smile...

1 comment:

  1. you have to put a censored over the peepee so i can read at work!!

    also this is a true story

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