Butterfly

You have a glint in your eye as the sunlight tears into your eyes, a quick glance upwards as you feel my touch on your shoulder, from an inperceptable blink to the rush from a kiss, blending into one. The scene nowhere near epic, yet you and I, unknown to you, haven't felt like this since life was free from responsibility, tapping into butterflies when the warmth hits, equal to times that are a struggle to remember.

Your feet ache after the few hours of the walk in amongst the outside, only a few minutes reprieve as mentioned before, the car park now in front of us. Only the warm car, summer air a breeze in the open window, can add the sharp tinge to your feelings for me, like the deep blue skies of summers a decade ago, constant learning on a cloud of unknowing joy.

With only the front door keys in my hand, it is simplistic, a quick dinner and then you wonder what could happen, you’ve been indecisive over fantasizing, but the bubble shall burst, with full force, you try and act perfectly to not scupper the chance.

The creaminess of the cheddar grated on top of the spaghetti, ever so much more tangy, a few hours has passed and this is the best spag bol you’ve tasted, only comparable to your fathers cooking, it’s as if I am in possession of the best recipe, and on top of it all, the key to your heart.

It seems ever so much an accident, now in my bed, the tension in awe and shock as we rush to get naked. Only our intimacy can break the togetherness of the day, from giggles to an everlasting build of wetness and pleasure, begging to burst into an orgasm as I can’t get enough of your moans that make me harder and faster.

You get on top of me, my cock feeling like morphine, your abdomen feeling like taking the first bite of an amazing dessert as I lightly kiss your neck and cheek, the unbelief that sex is to follow makes you crumble. 

Exactly as expected, euphoria enthralls as we end up with you laid down, me perfectly fucking you, no awkwardness, no need to adjust. Feeling the humidity as I come down for a genuine missionary, you wish time would stand still as your breasts touch my chest, you never knew they were capable of being that erogneous. 

Maybe it can’t be explained, the four seconds of unawareness that just exist of joy, as you lose control and orgasm spectacularly, no control over yourself but picturesque, like a painting, the sound would be Hollywood worthy.

You’ve come a long way, but you’ve found the new way to learn.