Partially cloudy.
The sun barely creeps through the bamboo blinds.
Tuesday, finally a day off.
It’s barely noon and I am already tipsy.

Seb has left work to be with me, lying across my bed.
His long muscular legs stretch and bend as he folds his arms behind his head.
A band of skin peaks between his rumpled gray shirt and dark jean.
I want to run small kisses along it.
Flick my tongue around his navel.
But my door is open.
Bodies roam about the hall.

I look away, tearing my thoughts out from my insides.
I find him watching me, as he always does.
My filthy little mind has been caught.

Still seated on my chair he makes his way to me.
His fingers play with my curls.
The sun hides and shadows fill the room.
I lift his shirt and kiss his tummy once.
three times.


August 14, 2007. C'est Moi, love, men.

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