You were in red silk. I expected nothing but a night in Amish Country. Smokables. Drinkables. The Kitchen, the preteen fear of getting caught. Smiles. Laughter. More drink.
Closer to you, closer to me. Sexual assault, shivers as the realization hits that with a flick of the wrist, a clenching of fingers you alone will decide if I shall have a good night, or a lonely, painful one. I love every second. Both of them.
You move. I follow. The kitchen, again. More drink. You in red. Red silk.
Time. Darkness. Gravity. The warmth of you, the feel of your breath, your lips, your taste. You smile. I kiss. You ask. I answer. The bathroom. The floor. Out and back. The best New Year's I'd ever had.
Fucking, and making love with the girl in the red silk. You wore red silk. Something that won't be forgotten soon.
Someone that won't be forgotten soon. The girl in the red silk.