my careless contagion

These hands move over her like pleasure-seeking precision instruments. My palms sweat and glide over her hot skin. In the dim light, I watch her take in a breath and bite her lip, her face contorting in pleasure.  As I press against her body, she writhes in my hands. Her breathing quickens, she gasps, moans, groans, and then her eyes open. Our eyes inhale each other. Our minds ponder the same question. And we're hopeless in each other's arms.  Her shirt comes off, and so does mine. Somehow our flesh seems like it's on fire. When I touch her, my skin wants to stay on her. It's like I'm trying to become her.  I part her legs and lean in to kiss her. She stops me for a moment as my intentions become clear. Kissing her makes me ache. Touching her isn't enough. Our breath is hot on each other's faces and necks. I kiss her chest, her eyes, her ears, her neck, her shoulders, her fingertips. She's one big erogenous zone, and nothing is neglect...

It's like magic to hear her voice. I'm transported to a place where I feel sane again, like I'm right by her side. I don't know how she does it, but she does it every time. Her voice goes right through my skin, right to my heart. It quickens me like no other sound in the world. If I could just have her voice and nothing else, it might be enough. Then again, it may not.    There is such longing in me to have her completely. One call from her and my sleep for the week is ruined. I cry out for her all night long. Does she hear me? Can she feel my hands searching for her in my cold and empty sheets?  It's like I'm in love for the first time. This is all new to me. I feel so much, and it has nowhere to go. She's outside of me, but she's also the blood that runs in my veins. And she runs hot. I have nothing but wishes for us. There's nothing I actually possess. Maybe this is the way great love stories start. Maybe this is the way...