Drabble Rousers

She can’t decide which she enjoys more, the sound or the feeling.  But the anticipation of both is driving her wild.

Goosebumps trail his hand like an obedient pup as he traces.

Slowly.  Deliberately.

Knowingly.

He hugs the curves.  He knows the terrain.

She feels the love in his touch.

Her hips move.  Impatiently.

So.  Very.

Her hips move.  On their own.

Yes.

She feels the desire when he moves his hand away.

Her hips stop.

And wait.

And then.

The unmistakable sound echoes through the cool morning darkness, lingering for about as long as the sting.

Fuck deciding.

“Again?”

_____

- Anonymous 

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