curiosity.

A Recap Of Our Night:

Him: Why are you soaking wet?

Me: Why do you think? It’s raining outside.

Him: You should have told me you had to walk. I would have sent you a car—or came to meet you. I do have an umbrella...

Me: It doesn’t matter. Then we’d both be wet and low key miserable. Neither of us would be in the mood.

Him: I don’t know about that.

Then he peels off my wet jacket and places his hand underneath my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra, so his thumb grazes my breast and plays with my nipple. It’s like he’s trying to figure out what it looks like before he sees it, that’s the way he touches me, with curiosity.

He’s taller than me so I grab his neck and twist my legs around his waist. He kisses my neck and doesn’t let go of my breast. Slowly, my pants come off. They slide off my wet thighs and make a thud on the floor. He slips his fingers inside me in the same way he groped my breast—with curiosity.