A hot August night in June

The milk white glow in my face before I fall asleep is so common to me. How many nights did we spend like this? Not enough.

Stripped down half naked. Completely naked. Your skin was so smooth. I loved making you shiver.

My hands cupped perfectly in your hips. I always squeezed until it hurt. You always whispered, “harder,” and I obliged.

The thick, humid air never bothered us when we started on each other. Our bodies sweat, but our minds were preoccupied with trying to make the other moan or yelp.

I loved it when you whimpered. You loved what came after.

The heat would set in eventually. After we fucked and tore the sheets off of the bed. It would be so hot we would sit naked in the kitchen eating ice cream in front of the open freezer door.

Often that would lead to more sex.

Now I’ll go to sleep reminiscing of these hot August nights in June, and how you’re burned in my memory. I hope you’re sleeping naked.

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