what i want to tell you

Taboo confessions whispered in the dark echo longer.

Things left unsaid grow into…

These secrets, that shouldn’t be, and aren’t really.

You know.

I know.

This is what I want to tell you.

This is what I want to do.


It would normally bug you, but the slightly off-balance clicking of the ceiling fan is just part of the day. It’s not especially hot, to you. The sun is doing its best to change that as it floods the bedroom.

If you had to pick your favourite time of the day, it would be right now. The world is busy. It forgets about you.

You’re comfortable on the bed, curled up in the sunshine like a cat. You should be working. You’ve been productive all day though. Still. You put your laptop on the bedside table. You stretch out, then sit up into a modified yoga pose with a name that makes it impossible to take seriously. The sunlight is coating you. You feel warm.

You feel warm all over.

You climb off the bed, in your leggings and v-neckiest t-shirt, and stand in the middle of the bedroom. You listen. You walk toward the door and open it. You tippy-toe down the hallway and peek through the doorway. I’m sitting at the kitchen table, using it as a makeshift office.

You want to tell me that I look cute when I’m all determined, but shake your head with a smile when you realize I’ll just reply with, “I know.”

I lift my baseball cap and run my hand through hair that should have been cut two months ago. I sense you walking up behind me.

You remove my thinking cap and give me a kiss on top of the head. You toss the hat aside. You lean over me and run your hands down my chest, while kissing the side of my neck. Then the other side.

I take your arms in my hands and pull you around until you’re sitting on my lap. You have that look in your eyes. Damn, I love that look.

I kiss you. I kiss you like it’s been too long. For me, it fucking has.

For you, you want more. You kiss me back hard against the chair. My hands find your butt. It’s not their first visit to the lycra-wrapped paradise. You mmmmmmkiss me and then pull back.

That look.

Those eyes.

You take my hands and pull me to my feet. You walk backwards towards the bedroom, never releasing your hold, of my hands or otherwise.

I stop in the hallway, pull back on your hands and kiss you. Long. Deep.

You start pulling me by the hands again. You let go of one, to close the bedroom door behind us, then the other to grab my t-shirt and pull it up and over my head. You kiss down my chest.

Your shirt is quickly off and thrown across the room. I pull you close again.

Your skin is only truly awake when touching mine.

I kiss along your shoulder, and you mmm as the breeze from the fan cools your skin as saliva evaporates.

I pick you up.

Legs wrap.

Teeth close on a lip.

Nails trail down.

I push you up against the wall.

People walk by the open window.

You don’t care. I don’t ask.

I throw you down on the bed and…


This is what I want to tell you.


All of this.

And so very much more.

I want to tell you.


I’m stuck in daydreams about night things I want to do with you this afternoon.

Come get lost with me.





photo credit: midwestnerd via photopin cc

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