He knows. He shamelessly begs me to surrender. Playfully I stretch to reach for my coat and he mounts on top pinning me under a storm of tongue pirouettes, I feel the moisture in his skin and I voraciously inhale his scent. A fraction of me still struggles.
I wiggle and kick the china on the coffee table, it sidetracks his attention. Pushing him harder I slide from under his hold and run for the door. Dizzy and aroused with my clothes in disarray I make it outside the gate.
Out in the street I stop to fix my hair and right in front of his ajar window I burst into laughter. I straighten my shirt over excited nipples and I cover my wrinkled, buttons missing skirt with my coat.
Walking toward the courthouse on Palat St I chuckle and breathe a sigh of... confusion.. am I glad I didn't do it?