He comes to me as I lay quietly in the dark. His breath is warm, raising gooseflesh on my stomach, across my breasts. He peppers my belly with kisses, his lips whisper my name, his hands hold me firmly. Not moving now, just closing my eyes and letting the feeling sweep over me.
I am waiting.
Anticipation grows and hangs in the air above us. Words yet unsaid. Desires, waiting for release, loom heavy and pendulous in the dark waiting for resurrection.
Anticipation is the sweetest part of desire. Gaping, like a void waiting to be filled. I wait to be fulfilled.
