hands wander up her thighs
warring with themselves on whether or not
this was a good ideashe's unsure -
baffled, quiet, contemplative -
as the fingers grip loosely
before vacating their placehushed sighs whisper in the dark
as time slips slowly down the slide
while they bask in their eternityit is a neverending slope of opportunity
that tiptoes across the line of infidelity
never once has it gone farther
but it goes far enough
as they trace tongues across lips
and teeth bite into soft fleshit never once occurs that maybe
they get off on it