Ex’s And Oh’s #RisquéReads
The heavy clouds had threatened to burst long before the sun set, and once they did, they never stopped.
The storm had begun.
I’d known him from another time, another day. A memory creeps in. Sweet coffee, slow kisses, and the smell of the summer rain. But that was before I left. And this was after. This was the last place I expected to see him. And yet he was here, he was here for me.
So much for, “I never want to see you again.”
We pick up where we left off, and it’s like time hasn’t passed at all. A slow striptease is all it takes for our inhibitions to disappear the way our misunderstandings never did. I slip off the dress, unhook my bra, and lower my panties until they’re all the way to the floor. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since I began. I love it.
His turn now. He obliges, gracefully.
Then he comes over and out his hands on me, and still manages to take my breath away. It feels…good. But it’s even better when this dance begins. We’ve rehearsed this so many times before. As lovers.
What are we now?
I don’t stop to think for long before I pull him onto that makeshift bed. It creaks under the weight of us, eventually falling into the rhythm of our song. Surfing the tides of ecstasy, we rise and then fall, leaving only memories and marks behind.
Souvenirs of sweet passion, swollen lips, and stained skin.
Together, we go to our ruin, stopping only to breathe. We are not beautiful. We are hungry, taking as much as our lips and tongues and hands will allow, and then some.
There’s so much lost time to make up for. And we’re not going anywhere. And we’re not going to end.
KEEP IN TOUCH!
Subscribe to our Newsletter
Don't worry, we don't spam