Nella's visit

Nella was coming over. Just the thought of it made my stomach flutter. I asked her for tea, not because we needed a drink, but because we needed an excuse to talk. To make up for the months we’d gone without touching each other. We sat close on the couch, knees brushing, already trading stories, already trading breath. Then the talk slowed and the first kiss came. Soft at first, almost polite, until she pushed closer and the politeness vanished. My hand slid under her blouse, felt lace and skin, and she smiled against my mouth like she’d been waiting for exactly this. The second kiss was slower, wetter. I tasted her lipstick and the faint sweetness from the tea. She slipped her fingers between my thighs, teasing, while I worked open the tiny hooks on her bra. We had months to catch up on, and we intended to spend every minute making up for them, here, on my couch, between kisses and half-whispered questions, between the teasing brush of lingerie and the growing heat neither of us wanted to slow down.