Small Moments - Sex Stories

Small Moments

... close or heard your steps, but I inhaled the mixed aroma of wine and your perfume in the air. You were smiling when I turned and saw you, refilled glass in your hand that you sat down on a nearby table. A tipsy smile lingered on your lips. I've come to love that specific smile, the one where you look like you have a fun secret you'll share with no one but me. Your head tilted a little in mock disapproval at the sight of the cigarette in my hand, but you still smiled. Even though you weren’t angry (or, even worse, disappointed) at all, my heart was thudding faster. I wondered if the anxiety was creeping back up or if it had been there all along and the whiskey merely provided a numbing veil that was starting to pull away. I lied to you for the first and only time, saying I was fine when you asked if I was okay. You stepped so close that the only thing really between us were the tendrils of smoke floating from the cigarette, curling and rising into the night like a ghost drifting heavenwards. Your hand broke through that chemical mist and took mine, squeezing softly, guiding me with you to the deck's railing. I realized what was wrong righted when your hand touched mine. Nothing about being at an unfamiliar house and drinking with strangers felt quite right. But everything felt right with you. I smiled back and we were frozen in that moment like you knew what I was thinking, or could at least feel it. Your hand made me remember how cold my skin had grown since stepping out ...

... here. Yours warmed mine, squeezing once more before you looked up at the sky. You loved looking up there the same way I loved looking into your eyes. I saw a universe in there, too, an undiscovered sprawl of planets and constellations waiting to be mapped. I'd write that in a birthday card to you one day. That we were a perfect fit, because we could be astronomers together. Any initial fear of my words being too mushy would be washed away when you smiled and said it was one of the sweetest things you'd ever been told. Now, though, I don't have words. Just motion. This time, I squeezed your hand while throwing the cigarette away. Instinct overwhelms when we least expect it to, ignorant of calendars and clocks and rules. Instinct breaks stillness with the unique force of human action, even if the movements suddenly possessing us seem deliberate and slow. And that light current, that energy I swore I could feel surging before, returned stronger than ever when I turned to face you and all I saw was your face illuminated by the pale moonlight's silver glow. Your smile faded into a peaceful stare, the calm oceans of your eyes holding mine so still. And it all seemed motionless, too, like your eyes had halted my sudden move, but only to dare me to keep going. I reached out and touched your warm cheek, your eyelids just barely narrowing from my soft caress. My fingertips trailed lower and your head moved with them as if you were slowly falling into my touch as I closed the space between ...