I wonder......

I wonder....

...what you're thinking right now. Whether your mind is drifting in the same gutter that mine is, thinking of the same sorts of delightfully decadent scenes. Whether your brain continues returning over and over again to that night we spent, replaying it in excruciating detail, teasing and exciting, embarrassing and delighting. Or whether you're thinking nothing of the sort, musing idly about grocery lists and laundry to be done and the bill you got from the mechanic. I wonder how I can find out. I wonder if I send these thoughts out, if you'll receive them. I wonder if you'll find your breath coming hard and fast as you get inexplicably turned on, or if the signal will go unreceived, winging its way ever outward through the sparkles of distant worlds and uncaring stars. 

I wonder....

...what you're wearing. Whether you've got on business casual, or the "executive" look that's so hot on a woman, or whether you're just clad in ratty jeans and a T-shirt for booming down the highway in a convertible. I wonder whether it slashes along your body in razor-sharp lines, attempting to conceal curves that are a crime to hide, or whether it does what I long so much to do, cupping and caressing those same curves with a lover's touch. I wonder how what you're wearing would impede me when I begin inevitably removing it from your body. Is it flimsy and easily torn free? Is it expensive, preventing fits of wild passion? Or did you anticipate me as you so often do, wearing something that gives me easy access for fingers and tongue and cock? 

I wonder....

 ...what it is you see in me. What it is about me that has you circling around me like a moth to the flame, playing with fire, singing your wings. Why you seem to think I'm different from everyone else to come along your path. Whether I really am different from everyone else to come along your path, or whether I just want the same thing, deep down. Whether I have the balls to open up to you the same way you've opened yourself to me. Whether you'd be shocked by what you found there if I did, or if you'd see in me the dark reflection of the hungers you're afraid to admit to yourself. 

I wonder....

...how many times you came that night. You never said, but I thought it was at least three. That first one I could barely detect; there was just a sharp intake of breath and you bit your lower lip. Your body tensed up and then relaxed, and I thought "That's a good start". Then you were riding the curve, riding me upward again. I felt you clench me, urgently, so urgently, gripping me so hard I thought I'd lose it too, but then you collapsed on me and fell still, and I was able to back away from the brink. That third time, though...that was a wonder. Vases cracked and windows crazed with the force of your scream, and with you shoving yourself back at me like that, there was no way I could keep from coming too. My answering roar mingled with your still-crescendoing shriek, merging and then drifting away again, another kind of lovemaking. Three at least, but maybe there were more? 

I wonder....

...who you're spending time with today, and I hate them a little bit for getting to do what I can't. Stroll with you in the sunlight, brush your hair away from behind your ear, listen to the bubbling stream of your conversation as it flows effortlessly from topic to topic. I wonder if they have the same nasty thoughts about you that I do. I wonder if they've ever acted on them. I wonder if you liked it when they did, if you embraced them eagerly, if your hips came up and pressed against them as they slid home into that hungry cunt, or if you straight-armed them and kept them off with a sharp retort. I wonder if you liked it so much that you're about to have them again. I wonder if it's hate, or jealousy, or delight on your behalf that has me so hard just thinking about it. 

I wonder...

...when I'll see you again. Whether we'll be able to break free of the obligations we have for another stolen moment in time, or somehow manage the luxury of a day or two uninterrupted. Whether we'll have to make it fast, a quickie in some dark corner, heated sighs and urgent mergings that are too too quickly lost, or whether we might get a bit of actual time to explore and tease and caress, to grip each other tightly, to take hold and keep from sliding off the skin of the world. Whether we can ignore the many demands on our attention for a sphere of quiet, a bubble of time when nothing matters but giving pleasure to each other between cool crisp sheets in a faraway room miles above any other distractions. Or whether it'll once again be longing looks, smoky glances, gentle touch of hand to cheek, but nothing more. 

I wonder...

 ...all this and so much more.

-- PB