A sliver of light through the blinds.
You slept with legs parted, a hand on your own hip.
Your tights were merciless,
cloth stretched so tight
I could see the shape of you.
Lips pressing forward,
the seam between your thighs,
a shadow outlining secret folds.
Your shirt had slipped high,
cotton thin over your softest skin
piercing through the fabric.
Each breath you took
lifted them higher,
taunting me with their nearness.
I lay beside you, shaking.
pulsing against the sheets as I stared.
I wanted you…
fingers aching to reach for you.
to mouth you through the fabric,
to drive myself into the heat.
The urge screamed through me,
to touch, to claim, to wake you.
But I stayed frozen,
my body wracked by the pain of holding back.
I burned in silence,
every nerve alive,
tormented by how much you gave away,
how little I could take.
You breathed peacefully,
while I drowned in my own lust,
with the agony of not touching you.
Torment portrayed without descent into lewd language. Nothing against lewd language, but it takes certain skill to write such without.
Thank you SeaCat!
The want and the holding back are tormenting. Nicely done