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Fingers wrap around cracked plastic steering wheel of the forty-eight Ford while curved glass bottles of *** and coke perch on the crest of the dashboard. I cup her left breast, explore for another short-lived feel as my breath wrestles with the scent of lavender beneath her ear. Tingles and beads of sweat inter-mingle damp on my collar. My lips labor toward her cheek methodically like a grandfather ascending a steep stairway. Her nylon-protected thigh burns against my gabardines kicking static electricity off of sagging seat covers. I fumble with the catch of her bra against her back. Parked here to spoon feels better than playing amateur baseball. No audience watches me drop the ball or toil to get to second base.
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
Intermission*
Fingers wrap around cracked plastic steering wheel of the forty-eight Ford while curved glass bottles of *** and coke perch on the crest of the dashboard. I cup her left breast, explore for another short-lived feel as my breath wrestles with the scent of lavender beneath her ear. Tingles and beads of sweat inter-mingle damp on my collar. My lips labor toward her cheek methodically like a grandfather ascending a steep stairway. Her nylon-protected thigh burns against my gabardines kicking static electricity off of sagging seat covers. I fumble with the catch of her bra against her back. Parked here to spoon feels better than playing amateur baseball. No audience watches me drop the ball or toil to get to second base.
Thursday night dances at the lake included a break for the band.
william-a-poppen
Written by
89/M/American
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
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