Eye Contact

She wants you to know. She wants you to know that she wants you to know. She eyes you from the corner. You can feel it. Roughing up your skin. Your breath grows short as she commands all your attention. She isn’t just staring. She is smacking you with your eyes.

It isn’t sensual. It courses your body. Up and down your chest. Stopping to pat all the spots she likes. It isn’t soft and flattering but it effects you the same.

You can try to retaliate. Your eyes sporadically attempt to meet hers. Your instant decision holds nothing to her premeditated intent. Her eyes. They stare at you with enough desire to force a whimper out of you. You’re not even sure if you are breathing, anymore. Your soul is engulfed in flame. You aren’t sitting anymore. She has picked you up off your seat by your crotch. Her bottom lip turns to catch your skin with her soft moisture.

You look away. She will make the time apart an eternity. You try to go back to your task but she has stopped your wrist. She wraps her fingers around your shoulder and pushes with her palm. Feeling your bones and muscle. Your shoulder pulls your neck and there you are looking at her again. You fail to notice any of her outfit. She has already stripped you in her mind. Your sweating.

She wants to touch you for real. The pressure form her eyes and body will destroy you. You won’t survive without it.


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