Loopy

I keep replaying the same scene in my head. It's Friday night at Bunker, and the both of us are properly buzzed and flushed. We're dancing side by side until the ever-shifting mass of bodies crowd us to the side where there is a smooth patch of free wall. In their lewd, drunken stupor, the rest of the college students won't let us back into the grinding, sweaty mess, and this is the part where we both laugh and I let my eyes drift over you in a completely unsubtle, do-you-know-what-is-going-on-inside-my-head-right-now sort of way. You're surprised and yet not surprised, so I don't hear any vocal complaint as I gently nudge you towards the wall. And for one long, torturous moment, neither of us say anything because I'm still wondering why I'm thinking instead of doing.

Eventually though, I give myself a mental kick and lean in.

And your lips are soft (so soft.) I'm also a damn good kisser in this particular fantasy, but the best part comes when I notice that you're not pushing me away. At all.

Then I jerk my head up and continue to write class notes in my binder as the professor rambles on.