Perhaps
Essie Dee
A first encounter. Shy smiles, a nod hello. Side glances. Warmth inside, feeling things that shouldn’t be. But it will pass.
But will it pass?
Distracted thoughts most inappropriate. A click of picture taken in discreet. Avoidance that does not last. Sit apart and glance too long. Has anybody noticed? Then seated side by side, legs bump and elbows brush. That warmth becomes a flame.
Standing near, and then too close. A full body lean, inhaling the scent of one another. Gently one hand slides over the other, fingers weave. Flame burns, breath quickens. Heads tilt and eyes meet, a silent question lingers. Not a moment for witness, unspoken promise of later and parting ways.
Later finds them on a forest stroll, fingers laced. Birds flit about in anticipation, noting an excitement that hangs in the air. Will it? Won’t it? Should it? Want it.
A moment chosen. Gently, carefully, hands find their way. Breath becomes heavy as flushed cheeks graze one another. Spirited eyes close as lips meet and part.
A groping moment before they separate, carnal hunger in their faces. One leads the other off the path into the shade of trees, dried leaves crunching beneath their feet. An old knotted oak is chosen, pressed upon. Clothing is unbuttoned, fumbled loose.
Promises broken while making, making, making.
Bitten lip, bitten shoulder, nails drag down back. Birds cease to sing, leaving the rustling leaves above to mingle with the sighing crescendo.
And then the realization of the moment, no longer pure fantasy. Confusion. Uncertainty. Shy smiles and side glances. Will anyone find out? Is this where it ends? Is this the start of something?
Perhaps.
Essie Dee
