Submitted by megan on Sun, 12/02/2007 - 01:57
Dinner is over. There’s a crowd around the drinks, fingertips are sticky with dessert. You press your sugared hand to the small of my back, breathe on the corner of my jaw. Where I love to be kissed. You kiss. Propel me forward, down the hall, into the bathroom. Against the wall, your thigh pinning my clit.