Closed Doors Pg.2

He gets up. I lay and stare up at him. We laugh. "Good afternoon," he says. "Good evening," I respond. We stay there in the dark hall talking about our day. Sweet as he is, he takes off his shirt and gives it to me. My head in his lap, he takes me into his arm and I'm staring up at him. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. Our scent of passion lingers around us and nothing else in the world matters at this point. Just he and I, I and he, he is... he is captivating. I feel like if I'm Lauryn Hill and he's the performer who's just "killing me softly with his song" and his embrace is so comforting like being under a fluffy blanket in a cold winter's night. He is Love. He laughs at my corny jokes even I know they're not funny but he laughs anyway. He smiles when I smile and he asks, "What are you smiling at big head?" and nudges me with a shoulder rock as I'm still in the nook of his arm. He will never guess that I'm smiling at him. Lost in this moment of what I wish could last forever and we could tell the landlord,  "Here. This here is Love. Pay your mortgage with that." Hmph. If only. I can feel myself falling asleep. Not because he's boring but because the sound of his voice soothes me and brings me to a place of peace. Awakened by his soft tongue on my lips. The sensual touch of his fingers tracing the hairline on my belly arousing my senses awake and aware. I can feel his body rising, lightly tapping me on my arm. My eyes open and look into his only to be closed again accepting his gentle kisses. He takes his shirt from me and places it on the floor next to me. His arms guide me onto the warm shirt and he hovers his body over mine. He stares into my eyes. Tears of love wells up into my eyes and he kisses them. Then kisses me. Then kisses me. Then kisses me further down my body following that same hairline on my belly and continues down its path. He wasn't finished.