capricornc5

It's the confidence in the touch. Before, it felt that every time, I was asking, he was asking. Politely. Ashamed. Unused to the closeness. Now my hands rest perfectly on the spaces between his fingers, knowingly. As I trace the line of his jaw or the string of his spinal cord down his back, the electricity is the same but the confidence is other. It's like returning home. You know the rooms, you walk in at ease, accustomed but relieved, because you are safe. I never thought I needed this; it was not a priority. And, when his lips searched mine for the first time, famished and burning, my own hunger surprised me. How can you be waiting for s