May 2018
I set myself up for failure.
My hand got heavy and I was a much too liberal pouring bourbon into my coffee.
I took my first gulp, the essence of oak barrels and rye devoured my taste buds:
coupled by a warm comfort that settled in my chest.
I lifted the mug to my lips and drank more, this time faster.
With no more than bourbon and coffee in my system I stumbled up the stairs to seek refuge in bed,
to no surprise I was met with the warmth of another human.
With my left-hand high and my right-hand low,
I rediscover my sense of touch and identified the ample ******* and wide hips with a woman to whom I once made love.
What have I done? How did she get here?
She felt the weight of my hands when I touched her,
rolled over to face me then lifted her hand to stroke my beard.
It was a moment of ecstasy.
Scenes of past affairs are recalled from memory and I’m instantly ready to dive deep into her sins like I had several times before.
I lift my finger tip to trace a map of where my lips would press next.
I started at her right ear lobe, moved my hand down and across the course of her torso, worked my way down her legs and wrapped back up to meet the middle of her thighs.
She gasped,
she knew what was coming next and begged for me to kiss her.
The moments to follow were simply exhilarating;
mind-blowing, heart-pounding, earth-shattering, exhilaration.
Soon she’d peak.
All at once her body became tense and she melted into the sheets.
Every lie we had ever told came to light when we engaged the flesh.
She tasted of uncertainty and deceit,
black coffee and bourbon.
Some of my favorite things.
I felt like dishonesty and mischief,
she knows I’ve been up to no good.
I lay facing the ceiling while she gathered her things and dressed to leave.
Neither of us spoke a word because we knew the severity of the mistake we made.
If anyone knew what we had done, they’d believe we had gone mad.
Maybe we had.
Neither one of us were sure but we did know that we could never see each other again.
We’re toxic as friends and deadly as lovers.
Nothing good can come from this.
My hand got heavy and I was a much too liberal pouring bourbon into my coffee.
I took my first gulp, the essence of oak barrels and rye devoured my taste buds:
coupled by a warm comfort that settled in my chest.
I lifted the mug to my lips and drank more, this time faster.
With no more than bourbon and coffee in my system I stumbled up the stairs to seek refuge in bed,
to no surprise I was met with the warmth of another human.
With my left-hand high and my right-hand low,
I rediscover my sense of touch and identified the ample ******* and wide hips with a woman to whom I once made love.
What have I done? How did she get here?
She felt the weight of my hands when I touched her,
rolled over to face me then lifted her hand to stroke my beard.
It was a moment of ecstasy.
Scenes of past affairs are recalled from memory and I’m instantly ready to dive deep into her sins like I had several times before.
I lift my finger tip to trace a map of where my lips would press next.
I started at her right ear lobe, moved my hand down and across the course of her torso, worked my way down her legs and wrapped back up to meet the middle of her thighs.
She gasped,
she knew what was coming next and begged for me to kiss her.
The moments to follow were simply exhilarating;
mind-blowing, heart-pounding, earth-shattering, exhilaration.
Soon she’d peak.
All at once her body became tense and she melted into the sheets.
Every lie we had ever told came to light when we engaged the flesh.
She tasted of uncertainty and deceit,
black coffee and bourbon.
Some of my favorite things.
I felt like dishonesty and mischief,
she knows I’ve been up to no good.
I lay facing the ceiling while she gathered her things and dressed to leave.
Neither of us spoke a word because we knew the severity of the mistake we made.
If anyone knew what we had done, they’d believe we had gone mad.
Maybe we had.
Neither one of us were sure but we did know that we could never see each other again.
We’re toxic as friends and deadly as lovers.
Nothing good can come from this.
