synonyms:towards the rear, rearwards,backward, behind one
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8:30 am Seoul
In between fine sheets and matching underwear, I mould, pressed, tangled up in her. My feet cold and gliding over smooth, olive ankles, while her fingers trace poetry. Something romantic. Something like I love you. Something like a name, a call, sweeter then my given.
Her touch strong and yet so tender, so careful – a reflection of my own love for her.
Or maybe not...maybe that was a carried away thought. We certainly aren't always so careful. I remember rainy nights, midnight swims and reckless sex, as a few careless doings.
In fact, I'm often undone in moments less careful. More audacious. In her less careful, moments of audacity. So many moments – too many to call careful, I guess.
So, perhaps it's just the overwhelming sense of pleasure I get from her touch that has me seeing a parallel. Perhaps it's just that I love her with all the same intensity.
"Hmm"
I moan by touch and she digs her fingers deeper. Just a little, just enough.
It's always like that with us, I react, she reacts, she reacts I react.
She lifts her leg higher between my thighs and I move my hips tighter against hers.
Just like that.
"Baby" Her traced endearments find a voice.
I hum, unable to find words of my own.
Unable to do much else then,
"Hmm"
There isn't music. But I swear I can hear it. Or is that her humming? I'm not too sure.
