And Then...

Pursed lips...
First his,
then her cursed hips
tell secrets she swore she'd never burst with.

Boiling over under an increasingly tepid surface.

Her tits
Rise and fall with purpose
Quick breaths under big breasts suggest she might be nervous.

Its silence writhing;
dilated pupils, eyelids rising.
Her mouth is still but the guy is smiling.

Skin taut
under skin tight thin cloth
She thinks she can think his thoughts.

She longs to feel a man's touch;
hands clutch forearms like handcuffs,
Firm but sans rough;
Love drunk, she can barely stand up...
She's used to power - forfeit the upper hand much?

And then...