She wrapped her hands tightly around me, until all I could smell was the detergent on her clothes. She smelled of rain and salt. She was a flood, she was a hurricane, she was a tsunami; she was a still river, a creek, and an ocean. Every part of her flowed like an expanding sea. Wherever I turned I could see her damp hair tangling against mine. The slow drip-drip-drip of her hair made me mad.
I couldn't help it. An angry desire pulsed through my veins, it heaved through my body and into my head. My brain was drowsy, I felt lightheaded, I felt giddy with passion. My lips landed clumsily against hers. If she seemed surprised she didn't say anything.
The only thing I felt was her rough fingertips against the side of my cheek. Rough with the constant soap and water running each day through her palms. I let her kiss my neck and allowed her to trail down. She seemed like she had been aching for this. She hungrily held me tighter and tighter until you couldn't have even put a flower petal between us. I felt her lips run over my thighs and my waist.
I opened my eyes. I opened my eyes. Breath heaving, pleasure still lingering in my body, waiting to be released by the only hands who were capable of setting it free.
I looked over at her. She was cooking bacon in a skillet. The applewood scent rose into the air, intertwining its smell with the final essence of my dream.
"How are you?" She said almost teasingly. As if she knew somehow that I had been dreaming of her and was taunting my recklessness.
I took one breath in and the nights feelings were already gone. Already gone with all the other dreams flowing in the air, waiting to be plucked.
I pulled a chair up against the island.
"I'm," heaving breaths hurried through my ear and I saw her down on the pillows caressing my face, sweaty, and tired, "fine."
"You want some breakfast?"
"Oh- you didn't have to do that."
She turned the pan over letting the bacon grease dribble onto my plate.
"Wow, so you won't even bother to even give me any meat?" I meant it as a joke but it rolled off my tongue heavily. As if I was angry for something that she hadn't done that I wished she did.
