Playing with Fire

13 Apr

With our colleague safe at home
we’d found ourselves alone again.
This was dangerous and I knew it.

I had thought after the first time we’d kissed
that the curiosity would be abated,
but afterwards I caught myself
marvel in surprise at how soft her lips felt.

By the second time
I was ambivalent
about the situation
in general.

But tonight had a special charge to it,
in close quarters
in my driveway
after a couple hours of “blowing off some steam.”

“I’d invite you in,” I told her.
“but my room is a travesty.”

Goodbye.

Time to open the car door and
go inside to rub one out.

Instead I leaned in and kissed her
then kissed her again
and again
each kiss coming at her with heavier
intentions,
before I knew it
my lips were glued to her neck
and my hand was in her blouse
cupping her breast;
massaging her erect nipple with my fingertips.

She tugged at my belt, unsnapped my buttons
and eased her hands around my junk–
one hand creating a perfect “O” with her thumb and forefinger
the other hand she used as an anchor at the base of my shaft.

“Let me come in.” She whispered.

“Okay.” I said, taking a deep breath
working my erection into my trousers as best as I could.

I figured (hoped) that we’d both be strong enough (smart enough) to put the brakes
on it before things got too far out of hand.

Unfortunately I was wrong.

~Edward Austin Robertson

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