I set the needle down and open the window to let the early summer air in. It's always summer, but the heat doesn't seem so brutal today. The normal tasks of eating, sleeping, breathing: they all seem less brutal in these moments. A guy could get used to this.
In a slinky white camisole and white panties, she's curled up on her side on the recliner with her serious face on, looking hard at the tiny text of her book. She doesn't even know what she's doing to me, just by sitting there. She doesn't even see what I see. She doesn't know that just watching her read turns me on. Would she hate me if she knew what I was thinking right now? Her smooth legs, bent at the knee and leaning against the back of the recliner, are taunting me; I just want to see them spread.
I take my seat on the couch and pick up the opened magazine I'd placed on the coffee table. I haven't read a word since she woke up and peered out my bedroom door. She caught me in here by myself, said she didn't like that she woke up alone this morning. I told her I'd make it up to her tomorrow and I intend to. Now, I just peer over the edge of the magazine pages, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. The record pops a little, but it sounds just fine and I want to take her hand and make her dance for me. I wonder if she would. Would she?
"Love this song," I say as I stand up.
She looks up from her book and grins, her bangs brushed just over her brow.
"I know; you said that last time you played it for me."
I graze her knee with my fingertips, then her arm up to her shoulders. She smiles and I lightly rub her shoulders until she looks up at me and I down at her. I bend down until my lips reach hers. "Dance for me."
She laughs, "Uh uh, no."
"C'mon, dance for me."
"I'll dance with you," she negotiates.
"Okay," I say and I grab her hand and pull her up, her book thrown onto the chair.
I take her right hand in my left and I wrap my right arm around her waste, placing my hand right at the small of her back. Last night, I learned she's ticklish right there, but she doesn't know I know that. She giggles.
"Am I that bad at this?" I ask.
"Haha, no, not at all," but she takes my hand and moves it up slightly. Let's call the whole thing off, I think, and I move the hand again, but this time over instead of up and I pull her in closer. With my face buried into her neck, am I bold enough to plant a few soft kisses? Before I'm able to answer that questions, I feel her warm lips brush against my neck and chin until they find my lips.
Back and forth, we sway to the song with a twirl here or there. Really, I'm not that good at this, so I'm extra sure not to spin her too hard. She's smiling, so she can't be having a terrible time. Back in my collapsed arms, her fingers seem to find all the spot on back I never knew were so sensitive. I'm a little hard, but hoping she won't notice. Just in case, let's get this show on the road: I kiss her neck and my fingers fondle the edge on her camisole, lifting it over her head.
She grins. "Again?" she asks. I don't stop kissing her and she doesn't stop smiling as she pulls my shirt off.
I spin her around and push the bedroom door open with the collective forces of our bodies. The mattress collides with her back as I battle with my belt. I don't want to take my lips of her. She pulls me under and helps me with the problem. We fumble over each other with impossibly graceful rhythm until nothing separates us anymore. I don't know where I end and she begins. The darkness is a mask and we don't have to be ourselves under its influence.
Breathing deeply, eventually, our bodies turn to mush. Somehow, I think I can even feel her limbs tingling. As I begin to pull away, she pulls me back again and kisses me hard, then smiles and rolls to her side.
"I'm hungry," she says and she gets up to find the take-out menu.
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Vignette #2.
As a select few people know, there's another one I wrote similar to this one that I didn't post, but may edit and put up later. That one's written from the woman's perspective, though. They comes as a result of listening to a lot of Minus The Bear.
"A few summers ago, we spent weeks in her room just having sex and listening to jazz and that was the life..." Minus The Bear Let's Play Guitar In A Five Guitar Band"
"And you're holding on to me like an old love that you know every inch of..." Minus The Bear My Time
"Black and white dress puts me into a trance as I memorize you..." Minus The Bear Excuses
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