Saturday, September 6, 2008

Do I Look Better in the Dark?

He danced in front of me, for me.

I liked his white belt the most. As he swayed and slithered in front of me, I kept looking back to the belt. I should get a white belt. Except then I'd need white shoes. We've just crossed midnight into Labor Day, so is that okay.

He had a beautiful compact torso. He was shirtless. The white belt held up form fitting blue jeans. His skin was the color of coffee with cream. I reached out and felt his chest - smooth and soft - and let my hands slide down his sides, landing on his hips.

He leaned forward and maybe said something. It was so dark I couldn't guarantee that his lips had moved. The music drowned out any sound.

"What?" I asked and leaned my ear towards his mouth.

"How old are you?" He never stopped moving his hips.

"Thirty-eight."

"Per-fect."

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