I am cooking carnal heat for a woman I shouldn’t be. We’re much too allied for intimate intentions. The fervour didn’t come stealing over me; it struck me gelid in a sudden flare of lightning.
The air crackles, and tiny sparks dart helter when her fine-featured face creeps close to mine, and we stray there quite a lot (maybe I should just smack her lips with no reaction time for her, and break the spinning spell, but what if one choc leads to another choc?)
The offing aches and throbs when she’s pushing precious paces away. And I wonder if I have no taste to have her, though the tortured heavens tumble. It’s just a fleeting, teasing thought, and I haven’t confessed to her as yet.