I sat upon the swing in the yard, placed my lips beneath his lips. I whispered his name. I fingers danced across his skin. Our dance was our alone. We moved to a rhythm only heard by us. Our dance was our alone.

I look into his eyes. I feel everything. Inside and out. His repetition has me wanting more.

I wrap myself around, pull him closer, as I imagine remaining here like this but soon it will come to an end.

Categories: writing

jasonwhitaker29171

Please consider the Following:

https://crowdrise.com/dashboard/fjasonwhitaker/videoproductionequipment

https://www.linkedin.com/in/jason-whitaker-6234b87

https://teespring.com/stores/f-jason-whitaker-photography

http://patreon.com/jason29171

Podcast: https://anchor.fm/f-jason-whitaker

https://www.fjasonphoto.com/

https://fjasonwhitakerwriter.com/