Lost in You

I lost myself in you today…
Standing on a swaying carriage
trying not to brush up against strangers
pushing my earbuds in deeper
to drown out the relentless hum and whine
of metal scraping on metal,
facing my own pale reflection
in the clouded glass doors,
staring at magic-marker graffiti
and the cold grey tunnel walls
streaking past.

You spoke, and I don’t remember
whether it was a greeting
or a command,
if it was friendly,
or urgent with need,
but just the sound of your voice
made me close my eyes
and let my head fall back,
waiting,
with a shiver of anticipation,
for your next words.

You sounded so comfortable,
so far away from here,
lying in bed, maybe,
a languid, drowsy quality to your voice
and in an instant I was there
feeling your hand lazily drift
along my thigh, and up
and up
and up
while you told me
how I make you feel.

That tinge of desire in your voice,
that ache,
that need to touch and feel,
to kiss and taste,
to hold and guide,
to fuck and be fucked,
to take and be taken
to writhe and buck
and come undone.

I could hear it all,
whispering to me,
pleading with me,
begging me to release you
from this torment of lust
that binds us both.

As you touched yourself
I could hear it in your breath,
in the pauses and catches
between words,
in the small sounds
you probably don’t even know you make.

And as you let your thoughts tumble
freely from your lips
while you brought yourself closer,
as you climbed towards that peak,
panting out your pleasure,
your mind alive
with images of us,
hard and fast and almost
frenzied…
as your voice climaxed
along with your body
and you cried out in pleasure,
letting me hear it ripped from you
almost against your will,
I braced my hand against the glass
so as not to touch myself
biting my lip in exquisite agony,
my brow pinched,
my eyes squeezed shut,
my breath leaving me on a long
slow, jagged gust.

I swayed, gently,
along with the carriage
and I was utterly, blissfully alone,
lost, in that moment,
in you.