I spent the evening with Jesse. We had no plans, just wanted to see one another since it had been a week.
I brought over a handle of Russian Standard, and pomegranate schnapps and we drank and watched cartoons.
From the the minute I walked in the door to the second I left I spent in his arms or holding him.
Sometimes we would be intertwined so he would nestle into my chest and run his fingers down my thighs, other times I would be running my fingers through his curly soft hair.
Eventually, it got too late and Jesse had to sleep. Saddened, we kissed and ran fingers and palms against wanted limbs.
It’s raining out out there. He mused.
I don’t even have a coat… I scoffed.
Take my hoodie.
I pulled the soft cotton onto my cold body and lifted the hood over my head. I turned and stole a final kiss.
And we parted ways for the evening.
I’m lying in my bed, fantasizing about our next evening together uninterrupted by work or friends.
I’m sleeping in this fucking sweatshirt.
It’s interesting, growing up all the kids laughed at me and made fun of my lips. They called me duck beak and would push their lips out to try and imitate mine. I was so selfconsciencous about my lips until I got out of high school.
Then, all the men and women I would go on dates with, people that would check out my profile on any dating sites, they would comment on how wonderful my lips were. Eventually, I too saw that they are awesome and unique.
I love my lips now.