It’s the touch of his skin
As soon as it contacts mine.
The way his hand fits just perfectly on my inner thigh.
As the goose bumps form and I feel the chill
About to go down my spine,
It’s almost euphoric.
As my lungs fill with smoke
And the car parked under some trees
And his thumb, his thumb!
Gently caressing my inner thigh.
My emotions about to burst from every pore
I keep my cool.
As I’m now half blazed and my body more sensitive
I can feel his pulse.
His heart is racing like mine but what are we doing?
He only has his hand upon my thigh.
I can see the swirls and twists of smoke trying to escape through a crack in the window,
I feel myself pulling back.
I feel him.
I feel his thumb playing with the edge of my shorts.
I feel myself giving in.
As smoke fills my lungs one last time,
His grip gets harder.
As his lungs fill with smoke one last time,
Should I put my hand on his?
The smoke is escaping the car,
But my vision is still blurry.
I feel his grip but it’s no longer tight.
I feel his fingers moving but not in the way that made my senses explode.
I can no longer feel his pulse.
I feel my heart beating slowly.
I can feel one chamber opening to let blood in another.
I feel my heart pounding- but slowly.
As his hands are now upon his cell phone,
I wonder what so great on your phone?
What’s more interesting than seeing where one touch of the thigh would get you?
He doesn’t know what goes through my body when his skin touches mine.
But why would he tease me?
My thigh still slightly tingling from his last grip,
I can’t take it.
It’s late but the stars,
The stars are making me smile now.
Should we smoke again? Would the same thing happen?
I’m starting to miss that touch.