He tried not to notice.
He tried not to stare.
Eyes front!
Misty and glazed on her face.
It was a good face,
an alluring face,
that laughed and scowled,
and smiled and pouted.
He adored that face,
but she was unaware,
love unrequited.
and now,
and now,
she'd damn well done this to him!
"Go on. Look down. I know you want to. Look down!"
The voice screamed inside his head.
All too much.
His optical nerves and muscles twitched
on command.
His eyes dipped.
Her button undone,
(and so was he)
the top button on her silk cream blouse
free from burden and restrain.
He didn't care of clasps and clothing,
but of the flesh,
flesh appearing beneath.
Warm soft smooth domes,
shiny with body lotion -
like slowly melting vanilla ice cream
at balmy summer sundown mixing with
her fragrance enticing of Polynesian nights.
Charmed by the rise and fall.
Each dip inviting him into pleasure.
Each rise reaching out to him...
...
...
...
Then he realised...
...
There was a pause...
...
A long drawn out empty void of conversation.
She watched him in silence,
her talking done.
....
His eyes - still on her breasts.
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