I’m a Thief

To The Lady on the Train,

It is early morning and dark when I rise from the bed, leaving a cocoon of warmth and you still sleeping. I will feed the cat and walk the dog and they will be contented. In the kitchen with slow and deliberate movements I will as quietly as possible brew the coffee. Into the bedroom with frosted windows now lightening with the coming dawn, I carry a mug of strong dark and aromatic coffee and set it gently on the table beside you. 

You are still asleep, your wild grey hair splayed on the pillow, an arm crooked above your head, and sheets half kicked off leaving you in a long T-shirt outline of your body. You are beautiful, a goddess in repose, and you are a wonder to see and it is an ache to restrain myself. I am about to turn to leave you to sleep  when you shift and turn slightly. Is it the scent of the coffee that has roused you, the lightening of the room, or my presence that has disturbed you? It is here where your body betrays you by the smile that too late you suppress and the hardening of your nipples against the shirt, and the subtle changed scent of you. You shift once more and a knee is exposed from underneath the bedsheet. An invitation. 

I will play this game; you the sleeping prize and I the lover thief. From the foot of the bed, slowly and almost silently I slide under the sheets. Brushing my lips against your ankles and feet I coax your legs apart just a little more to reach your knees. My fingers trace lines on your calves and thighs and my mouth trails kisses on your inner thighs, moving slowly higher. The scent and warmth of you fill me and I am no longer the thief but a willing slave to your desire. 

My arm curls under your leg, my hand pressed to hold your hip and the heat of my breath on the triangle mound of tight curls and all pretense of sleeping is dropped as you sigh, open to me and your hand on the back of my head draws me in. You are warm honey as my tongue finds your folds and the stiff button that brings you so much pleasure. I feel the rhythm of your hips and the press of you on my face. I feel the tightening and letting go of the muscles in your legs, back, and stomach. 

I want to slow, take my time and savour the waste of you; to stay here for as long as possible, to tease you close and then to back away. But I can feel your desire and impatience for release growing, and I will comply. My tongue will dance where you command and your entire body begins to tense. There is holding on, a moment yet an eternity on the precipice of some cresting wave building inside. ‘Don’t stop’ your body commands me and I obey but only quicken my tongue slightly. And here it comes washing over you, every muscle tight, hold, hold, back arches, and then a full body release. 

My cheek rest on your mound and I breath you in. You sigh and pant, trying to slow your breath and here we rest in the glow. You run your fingers through my hair as I cup your breast in my hand. After a few minutes you swing a leg over my head to lay on your stomach. 

I turn to kiss the roundness of your bum and let my fingers draw patterns on your back, connecting the dots of freckles, soft skin over muscles. My palm on the back of your neck, the tilting of your hips and spreading of your legs as I shift myself between them. Our breaths quicken my lips to your shoulder as I enter you from behind. The press of your bum against my stomach and burying myself as deep into as I can and the desire to be deeper still. We give ourselves over to these ancient instincts and let go any restraints to our passions. We thrust and push and pull and let our bodies rule all that we are in this moment. We crash and clasp onto each other. It is raw and wild and we pant and sweat and we don’t know where one ends and the other begins until we both are spent. We come to ourselves and lay holding onto one another looking deep into each other’s eyes. It’s like we let go and lost ourselves and it is here where we can find ourselves again. I will stroke your arms, cheeks, hips; touching you to make sure that you are real and really here. I fall into your smile and I am lost again. 

I will touch you throughout the day to make sure you are not a dream, or to keep me from floating away from this earth. Or both. 

The Man in the Station