Wanting You

I want you!
Here in this café
sitting across from you,
leaning in, to hear
the quietness of you.
I want you -

not in any metaphysical way;
no subtlety here in my longing.
I want you -
now!

As your nipples tease me through the
thin fabric of your
blue and white striped
shirt… Oh I want you here
in the space where my head
loses all thought and instead
my fingers and tongue do
the sensing, tasting, touching of you

I ask you if you’d like to lick ice-cream
from the insides of my thighs
knowing what your response will be
Stop! You say,
pleading against the upsurge of sensation
Would you though?
I persist with all the cockiness
of knowing my conquest
Stop! You’re begging -
which you know by now only
incites me to greater boldness

I describe my desire more fully
leaning across hushed tones,
some semblance of privacy
where our whole body language speaks of
I want you!

Rocking on my chair I can hardly
contain this exploding urge
to take you here
pushing you down onto

the polished, well-trodden floorboards
where half a dozen people are
spending a quiet Friday afternoon.

I want you.

All the while in my imagination
I bite and lick and pull at
your teasing nipples through the light fabric
undoing your buttons and sliding
my hand inside as
I raise my mouth to yours
bearing my weight down as
you lie passively beneath me
- So now we know it’s a fantasy -
But still I want you

I want my hands sliding across your ass
as I pull you toward me
opening you up to me…
Now it’s me pleading
Come home with me?
You accept your power gracefully -
Yes, I want you too.

(c) Liz Willows 2000