Late nights and long days.
You greet me secretly.
Soft brown skin waiting for me.
Warm and soft.
Strong and soft.
Smooth and soft.
Would it be too cliché to say that I had a feeling?
My thoughts as I floated down the last balcony or tiredness were filled with contemplations of how nice it would be if your heat was there…
Waiting for me.
I open the door and a familiar smell is waiting but signs of you are not present.
I brush the buzzing thoughts away and take off my shoes.
Sleep calls me and as I prepare to find her I see you.
Unexpected but very welcome.
Cold light brown skin climbs hungrily, hurriedly beneath covers.
This is what I want.