Aphrodite

Having been held under for so long, she emerges.

Her beauty is strong and shameless. She looks men in the eyes and they shudder.

The room is dark and warm and lusty, the underbelly of some sweating beast.

Words come easily.
A glass of wine and a black dress.
Crowded.

Feeling the closeness of the man. His lips at her ear, fingertips on her backbone, his thigh pushing in, his muscles moving and tightening underneath. So close.

A tingling, a letting go, anticipation.

The beautiful man. Beautiful and full of need. Searching eyes, nervous laughter, limbs that cannot stop twitching.

Drawn to her: the ideal, the archetype, the femme fatale, the goddess. Again and again, searching for perfection.

A senseless desire to merge. Everything else a distraction: ambition, career, family, relationships, goals, tomorrow. No, just this.

All she wants – the sole thing – is to have him in her mouth. To touch. To taste. To hear the sounds. To feel it melting on the tongue.

Oh, the body!

So she arrives and will not be ignored.