Blue eyes watching. Blushing at the sight at the very thought.  Flushed with emotion. Hearts beating so fast and hard.  Deafening rhythmic beating.  Quivering at the thought of what may be next.  Hoping it will be so, yet afraid of what is to come.  Self-conscious and embarrassed, time stretches on.  Not wanting the moment to pass.  Holding on hard to the idea.  A soft, almost accidental, brush of the lips.  A light, absentminded gliding of the finger on the skin.  Systems heightened, mind swimming, emotions running rampant, temperature rising.  Taken by surprise the lips plant firmly yet gently.  A breathy moan leaves no doubt.  

Sighs tell a story
Opening the door to play
And so it begins

Tentatively, lips touch.  So sweet and delicate the dance.  Welcoming, beckoning to be entered.  Warm and wet they go exploring, tasting, breathing in the essence of desire.  Doubt gives way to fire, and passion wins out.  Piece by piece the offering is made and accepted.  The game continues.  Silently daring to be outdone.  First one button, then another.  Heat rises.  Smooth skin under rough hands. Electricity.  Fingers trace a line that the tongue follows.  Closer, closer, closer.  Involuntary movement brings skin against skin, breath against breath, body against body.

Minds lost to passion
Floods come to drown the desert
Drink til thirst is quenched

The hand once afraid to touch, briefly runs the length of its desire.  Like a volcano letting off steam.  Embers turn into an inferno consuming all it comes near.  Floodgates opened, beckoning.  Waters tested.  There is no denial, no second thoughts, no rewind.  Short gasps of need, punctuated by the sounds of the flesh.  Glistening in the moonlight, two outlines become one.  

No more wondering
The question has been answered
Hearts have been traded

There are no thoughts left to ponder.  In this moment there is only those eyes.  Those blue eyes that pierce the soul, that see right through the words.  Lips removed from lips.  Watching the moment.  Waiting for its impending arrival.  Fingers grasp tightly as they pull against the skin.  Trying to melt into each other.  They dig in a little too hard, the sounds are a little too loud. Inhibitions lost on the wind.  No longer able to hold back.

And in that moment
There is only perfection
Nothing else matters