We’d been toying with the idea for weeks. No words had passed between us but I knew her games. She relied on me still adoring her perfume and the way she twisted her hair up into a clip, displaying her neck where perfume would now be mingling with the scent of her warm skin.
She drove my senses through the roof, always had, and she new it. We’ve been divorced seven months yet my body betrays my common sense. She wanted to see me and I said no, but as she stared at me it was impossible to deny her.
Sophisticated and confident, a far cry from the young girl who asked me for a euro ten years ago to use the public phone outside the Carpi Cathedral. My world turned upside down that day and a year later we were married.
Today I left the office at five and found her outside my front door, swirls of smoke from her Modiano rising through the night air, a fickle barrier between the electricity radiating between our unspoken words.
I took the coat from her shoulders and my heart stopped at the sight of her legs. No-one had legs like her.
She said yes to a babycham and we sat by the fire listening to a new vinyl .. the American jazz she had flown to New York to see. With him.
We talked a little and her shoe which evoked sexual tensions within me slid slowly between my own ankles. My peripheral vision threw my mind intoxicating snippets while I overrode the desires to maintain eye contact.
She purred that she had missed me, my touch, my body near her own. I noticed her hand pull her own thigh apart and the ash which fell to the carpet was the least of my problems as exploits of my dreams became, once more, a reality.
Photo credit – Jack Vettriano print
Oooh, it’s been ages since we had some fun with a JV isn’t it?!! Yum yum yum. Hope you enjoyed that ☺️😈 .. now it’s back to my #nanowrimo piece 👌🏼