These are some poems that I have created over the years that I thought I should share with someone.
These poems are based off of people that I find really attractive, so please enjoy.
Normal - you
Italics - them
Slight smut warning.
I don't know why I'm so nervous. The many steps that I take through this lush forest makes my anticipation grow intensely. He can literally do anything and I would comply. It's all in his control, so why am I freaking out? He hasn't even said anything yet.
She walks next to me on this bumpy trail. Not saying a word. I should say something though, since I asked her to walk with me in the first place. I could tell she was suspicious. I asked her to walk away from the rest of her friends. But, she said yes. And I could very well be a murder, yet she said yes.
I'm now starting to wonder why he asked me to come with him. I don't have the guts to ask. All I could do is stare down at the trail in front of me as we walk on. His black boots hit the earth with every step he takes. Taking charge as he goes. Such power.
She stares down at the ground in front of her. Trying not to make it as awkward as it already is. Her summer sandals pad the harsh ground. Her shorts move with her lower body. Skinny arms crossed in front of her tank top. Light hair pulled into a bun. Different. Carefree. Rather sexy.
I can feel his eyes on me. I glance at him and he whips his eyes away from me. The reaction puts a smile on my face. He's just as nervous as I am.
Her eyes meet mine and a pang hits my stomach. I avert my eyes. I hear her laugh underneath her breath. I smile. My left hand goes to the back of my neck. An idea pops up into my head as we trudge on.
In the corner of my eye, I see him place his hand on the back of his neck. God, that kills me every time. My eyes go back down to the trail and I uncross my arms. Like the blink of an eye, his touch is on me. I stop walking and so does he. My eyes don't leave my feet, afraid that if I looked up at him in this moment, his touch would leave me. The tip of his middle finger touches my bare shoulder. It goes down my bicep to my forearm to the palm of my hand. His fingers thread through mine, finally relaxing in my grip. He has calloused, yet soft hands. I found my new favorite feeling. Interesting. We both stand there, looking down at our intertwined hands. Simultaneously, we lock eyes with each other.
Her soft fingers grip mine and I feel this rush of relief over me. She wants this just as badly as I do. When my eyes meet hers, I had the strongest urge to kiss her. But I'm going to save that for later. Even though it will kill me.
We stare at each other for a second, anxiously waiting what his next move would be. He looks down from my eyes to my lips. Back and forth. I lick my lips. He raises an eyebrow and smirks at my action. As if to say, "Just wait." He walks forward again, pulling me with him. I watch him with his black shirt, black jeans, and black military boots. Holy fuck.
Just wait, baby girl.
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AN: I usually don't like the term 'baby girl', but I thought it fit the story.
