One Button

One button is all I undo before I hear you suck in your breath. Glancing sideways I see your head has dropped forward and your eyes are closed – you’re poised – waiting. I trace one fingertip along your forearm, an inch and back, nothing more. Still, you swallow and rearrange your tongue as if you can’t find a good position for it while my pants are on. I add a second finger and move both purposefully as if I have some sort of goal; when I reach your wrist I roll up on the edges of my nails and drag them gently back toward your elbow. This started out as a casual bit of touching – the best I could hope for in a crowded airplane – but it’s turned into so much more. I’m not surprised when my own heart quickens – I’ve lately grown used to watching you for cues to my own mood. I love that you respond so completely to me. A look, a touch, a small sound, nothing escapes your notice and all bring you closer to me. Twisted torture as we try to maintain composure – your resolve diminishing with my activity on your arm; my resolve diminishing with yours. If we were alone, we’d be kissing at least – probing each other with licks and nips, pressing tongues. A vivid flash – I see me naked in your head and you shift in your seat…you see me, too.