Sitting here alone in my study. My mind is racing with thoughts of you. My heart is beating fast at the thought of your touch. Your kiss is what I long for. The feel of your hand as it touches my hair, your fingers intertwining with the golden curls. Your lips on my neck, then your voice whispering into my ear.
I scratch the back of my neck, my fingernails gliding over the soft and delicate skin causing me to jump a little.
I stare at the computer screen. My mind is a blank. That blinking cursor taunts me, teasing me, begging me to write.
My fingers rest on the keyboard. Before I know it, they begin to move upon their own freewill. My eyes study the single word on the screen; Perfection.
'Perfection,' I think, tilting my head to the side. 'What is perfection?'
A clap of thunder rumbles through the sky. A flash of lightning fills my study and the rain begins to pour. Nothing like a Summer storm to aid writer's block.
Perfection. I tap my nails on my desk, trying to continue with this initial concept.
I remember our first kiss. Perfection need not another name. The beach at dusk, our lips met, brushing lightly against each other until your tongue began to massage mine. My arms wrapped around your neck, your hands on my hips, feeling the band of flesh between my jeans and shirt. The waves rolling it to the white sandy shores of Northern California.
As we parted, our eyes fluttered open. Yours danced with delight while mine were glazed, glassy with desire. I bit my lower lip, sucking it into my mouth, wetting it with my tongue. Your eyes travel down, studying the slick sheen. You traced my lips with your thumb.
Before I know it, we were kissing again. More passionately this time with my sighs of satisfaction filling your ears. Your hands groped my body, holding me, pulling me tighter into you. My hand rested against your chest, gripping at your shirt while my mind races, wishing we were back at your place.
I smile, reading over what I just wrote. The description of our first kiss always makes my stomach flutter like butterflies. Perfection is impossible to obtain, but once in a while a single moment of our lives can be considered perfect in our eyes.
My first kiss with you was just that. Perfection. No fear, no nerves, no doubts. Seduction, passion and lust outweighed everything else. Perfection.
And when I think of you, it's the only word that comes to mind. Not sexy, hot, handsome, gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, they're ideal descriptions and they work well to describe you. But to me, in my eyes, you are perfect. I love you for who you are. I love you for your flaws. I love you for being you.
You are perfection.
I scratch the back of my neck, my fingernails gliding over the soft and delicate skin causing me to jump a little.
I stare at the computer screen. My mind is a blank. That blinking cursor taunts me, teasing me, begging me to write.
My fingers rest on the keyboard. Before I know it, they begin to move upon their own freewill. My eyes study the single word on the screen; Perfection.
'Perfection,' I think, tilting my head to the side. 'What is perfection?'
A clap of thunder rumbles through the sky. A flash of lightning fills my study and the rain begins to pour. Nothing like a Summer storm to aid writer's block.
Perfection. I tap my nails on my desk, trying to continue with this initial concept.
I remember our first kiss. Perfection need not another name. The beach at dusk, our lips met, brushing lightly against each other until your tongue began to massage mine. My arms wrapped around your neck, your hands on my hips, feeling the band of flesh between my jeans and shirt. The waves rolling it to the white sandy shores of Northern California.
As we parted, our eyes fluttered open. Yours danced with delight while mine were glazed, glassy with desire. I bit my lower lip, sucking it into my mouth, wetting it with my tongue. Your eyes travel down, studying the slick sheen. You traced my lips with your thumb.
Before I know it, we were kissing again. More passionately this time with my sighs of satisfaction filling your ears. Your hands groped my body, holding me, pulling me tighter into you. My hand rested against your chest, gripping at your shirt while my mind races, wishing we were back at your place.
I smile, reading over what I just wrote. The description of our first kiss always makes my stomach flutter like butterflies. Perfection is impossible to obtain, but once in a while a single moment of our lives can be considered perfect in our eyes.
My first kiss with you was just that. Perfection. No fear, no nerves, no doubts. Seduction, passion and lust outweighed everything else. Perfection.
And when I think of you, it's the only word that comes to mind. Not sexy, hot, handsome, gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, they're ideal descriptions and they work well to describe you. But to me, in my eyes, you are perfect. I love you for who you are. I love you for your flaws. I love you for being you.
You are perfection.
Great job and this line is so true "Perfection is impossible to obtain, but once in a while a single moment of our lives can be considered perfect in our eyes."
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