dancing, we’re dancing,

he and I.

I asked he agreed, not that he had much choice, I turned the music up and rolled straight into his arms. He kisses my forehead, clumsily swaying with me, I turn – he rotates me back in his arms, my shirt flows under the motion, panties covering my bottom, barefoot against the tiles.

Breathless after a bit, laughing at the absurdity, curls flying across my face, sticking to my neck. his smile beaming. I glow. I glow under his eyes, radiate with each twirl, hand to hand, dancing. Swaying, rocking, cascading – bliss.

He asks how I feel, if my body is still tender, if my cunt is still sore, if my skin is still flushed. If my mouth is still remembering the taste of his. If I would like another kiss. If I am ready to feel him again. I stand blushing, not knowing how to answer, yet knowing I always love his kiss.

I stand in my toes and reach for his lips, he bends down and helps me. I wrap my hands around his neck, he lifts me slightly in the air, I can feel the soreness of him in my core as I stretch. But his kiss consumes me. I melt under his touch.

He backs us into a corner, Lifting me to where my thighs wrap around his waist and his pelvis anchors me, my panties slide to the side, nothing between us expect his boxers, and as his tip slides into me, and the feeling of cotton rubs my clit, I feel the stretch of a newer ache. He slams his length in me, a bit claiming – a bit hungry, and we dance against the wall…. kissing the entire time.