In My Room

When I opened the door; my room was dark. Although I heard no sound, I sensed movement in the room. Someone was there.

Then I saw him, turned away from me in the corner. As my eyes began to adjust to the dimness, I saw only his brown shoulders; then slowly the shorn head and muscular torso of My Young Man became more clear.

He was quivering.

At first I thought he was crying; then I realized it was something else.

I wondered if he knew I was here.

My whisper was a shy and breathless, "hi."

His soft mocha figure stopped long enough for the quietest "hi" to be returned to me. Then the quivering began again.

I eased toward him; my embrace surrounding his chiseled back, my chin settling onto his shoulder, my hands gliding down his strong arms. I sensed the tension and urgency of this moment.

The quiver became violent rocking as I whispered soft moans into his ear.

Just as my tongue flicked the soft flesh of his ear lobe, I saw the escape from his body. The rocking became shudders as the tension in his back and arms relaxed. Then his entire self settled into me.

With his head against my chest, his smoky voice swirled up toward my ears.

"hi," he said again.