The hot, humid air of summer hits my face as we stumble out of the club, on our way back from a night of drunken revelry. I go hazy on most of the details, but what I do remember are your ruby red lips and how they tasted; how your body rubbed against mine on the dance floor; how my fingers teased you, moving in rhythm with the music, getting you wet...
As we rumble on in the rickety old cab, my attention is drawn to you when you whip out the familiar cherry lip-gloss and apply it to your lips. A fleeting moment of longing, to kiss you, goes through my heart. You turn your head towards me and I beckon you to come closer. You sidle next to me and rest your head on my shoulder tentatively, as I put my arm around you. I breathe in the flowery smell of your soft hair and gently rub your arm with my hand, to let you know how much I like this. You shift in your seat to get comfortable and the hem of your skirt rides up (the skirt I had to mither you into wearing). My gaze is drawn to the creamy skin of your legs as you sit there blissfully unaware of the effect you are having on me.