Imagine

his hands slid up and down her back,
increasing in speed..and passion.

This is it, she thought,
someone I was never going to do.

Her hands tightened around his shoulders,
her fingernails dug into his elastic,
from all the "water" he drank, skin.

He breathed in sharply
mixing his face into pain and pleasure.

She looked down embarrassed,
not wanting him to see her chapped lips,
damn the dry weather she thought.

She wanted to seem as smooth and sexy as possible.

She wanted him to remember this for at least a week,
until he once again found another P.Y.T. (pretty young thing).

She smiled, gently humming the Michael Jackson hit to herself,
making a quick transition to a soft groan.

Not once did they share eye contact,
not once did they kiss.

Signs of intention ,she thought, we don't want that..

he doesnt want that..