Eric’s fingers trembled on my skin. He sighed into my mouth. Our jackets whispered against each other beneath the constant thrum of wind and waves. Eric’s tongue coiled around mine and I rested against him, finding shelter. Everything in me rushed towards him, our breaths meshed, fell into sync. We bruised each other, reaching for shared warmth, for what we’d both missed.
“Get a bloody room.” A disgruntled passerby broke the embrace. A pair of terriers yapped and ran in crazed circles around us. “This is a public beach.”
“Where’s the ‘No Kissing’ sign then?” Eric snapped.
I bet when they get a room, they do a lot more than kiss.
ReplyDeleteHmmmm, are we sure they aren't back in school - I think that I heard this at my son's last band performance. Great snark - I have to agre with Tarah though, I think if they get a room they will do a lot more than kiss.
ReplyDeleteThey do (eventually) get a room and they do very rude things to each other. :D
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by!