watching you from across the table…your eyes nervously glancing around, trying to stare without seeming obvious…as your lips dance around the straw to your half-finished drink.  i want to take you home with me.  i’ve counted the times you’ve lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at me, the quiet, shy smile that you flash as your eyes catch mine…and how you look away quickly.  it’s cute.  your mouth is calling me, daring me even.  will your lips taste as delicious as the layered drink you’re finishing?  will your breath smell sweet with light liquors and smooth alcohol?  i’m sure it will…and the remnant taste of the cherry you just ate from the bottom of your glass?  i’ll taste it with my tongue as i lightly lick across your lips.  your hands shift, your fingers move and interlock randomly in your nervousness and excitement, you almost can’t contain yourself.  of course, you don’t want to appear awkward or shy, so you try to hide it by giggling at the people around you, while inside you’re gasping desperately, just itching for me to touch you.  how soft your hair will be as i run my fingers through it…lightly grasping the back of your neck to pull you toward me to lightly bite into your skin.  will you shiver?  yes…you will…your eyes will close as they timidly roll back in delight…as you sigh for more.  maybe our hands will brush against each other casually on the table…always by accident, though with such intent it couldn’t possibly be by mistake.  will your heart skip a beat as our skin blissfully touches?  you won’t show it…you’re keeping your cool exterior in an attempt to mask what you want to do to me.  never reveal your aces so quickly or so soon, no, you must hide something.  you must save some exciting dark tricks for later in the night.  how difficult is it to maintain composure at the table while the animal inside you is clawing your every passion, begging for my breath to be against your skin?  is it killing you?  the anticipation must be devastating…the waiting, the torture and mystery of how my mouth would feel pressed against yours in one moist union…will it be clumsy?  will your delicate tongue find mine as our lips dance in the dark?  not too much…ever so gently…you’ll offer more and more as your breathing grows heavier and more intense…how tightly are your legs crossed now?  you can feel it, deep down, your body is screaming for release, your temperature has risen dramatically and you’re nearing the point of no return.  the ice in your cup is nearly gone, and soon you’ll have nothing left to keep your mouth occupied…you’ve now become powerless, nothing can stop you, nothing will hold you back…a kiss will set you free…but can you stop there?

try and keep up.

i suppose it would be flattering for someone to want to use my words.  maybe someone wants to impress some vain crush of theirs, maybe they want to tell her that my words describe so eloquently how they feel about her, maybe it’s just poetic and dangerous enough to make their point known.  or maybe…maybe they aren’t good enough to come up with their own?

i suppose it IS flattering.  maybe someone SHOULD borrow my words.  just be careful that they don’t fall on deaf ears.  just make sure your lips can compete with what mine can do.