It's almost midnight. You sit beside me on the sofa, a glass of pinot noir in your hand. Your light-colored locks frame your face like fine art, your full lips tantalizing me with each spoken word. I see that you have unbuttoned the top two buttons on your blouse, revealing soft, delectable flesh underneath. I'd like you to unbutton two more.
You sip your wine, and then our eyes meet again. You are trying to draw me into you, I can feel it. I don't pull away. Why would I? I love sharing this time with you. I enjoy being so close to you. I love the sound of your voice, and every word that you have to say. But right now, I can't hear any of it.
All I can focus on is unbuttoning your blouse all the way. Kissing your pale white throat and down to your breasts. Feverishly unbuckling your belt and sliding down your jeans. I imagine sliding my fingers into your panties, feeling the heat that radiates from your pussy, my fingertips moist as I delve into your arousal.
Your voice snaps me back to reality. You ask if I can put your glass of wine on the end table beside my own. When I do you lean close to me, your mouth glancing on mine, lips brushing me gently, teasingly before kissing me passionately, hungrily. Your hands place mine on your breasts as I return the kiss.
I think Jack has fallen asleep putting the baby to bed, so this kiss is just for you.
Picture prompt; no verbal prompt this week