a wish of an endless moment
When he comes back from the bathroom, she is still laying on her side. He hesitates.
“come” she says, tapping the bed with her hand.
He lays next to her, mirroring her. They look into each others eyes in a never ending moment, and he wishes that moment never ended.
Her lips open slightly, and when his eyes move from her pupils to her lips – and she notices his eyes traveling to her lips – these change from a circle to a semi-circle.
“l love you too” he anticipates before she has a chance to say anything.
Her semi-circle doubles in size.
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Mmm 🙂 Vakkert 🙂 *ser bilder i eget hode*
Takk og velkommen, kjære Nina.
Jeg er glad å se deg her 😉
This is my morning every morning…with a few bad breath jokes thrown at the stud just so he doesn’t get a bigger head. 😉 LOL
Oh Gadge! l envy you!
that you can get that every morning – including the bad breath is….
the best way to start the day. 🙂
*LUV*
Swoon.
totally swoon, baby 😉
Er det et nesten endeløst øyeblikk når det er skrevet ned? Slik at det er mulig å gå tilbake å lese det, gjenoppleve det – øyeblikket?
it is, but is not at the same time.
The “feeling” of he first time can not be reproduced 100%…
but oh! so nice to remember it!
:-*
oh geeze… that is an amazing moment! they are few and far between. oddly enough, i had something like that the other night and it was like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold night. *sigh*
l saw it, Cali, and l saw some green hat and a beautiful smile.
And l liked to see you smile.
😀
The best part is the hand placed lazily on the curve of her hip……not in a sexual way, just there….for connection….the heat of their bodies joining in the small spot……mmmmmmm, I love mornings. I love the image you created.
ADORable. Love it. You rock!
😀
Cute read!
I just finished a monster of a love story. Would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks!
l am on it!
and welcome, prafeston
😀
It is a strange thing, being – you know – mature? and still almost like a teenager emotionally. It may never change – this rush, being able to.
My auntie (ok, my mothers auntie) is almost ninety. She had a son with a german during WW2, and she wasn’t good enough for the parents of this guy after WW2 – so he married a “better” young woman.
He loved my auntie all his life, sent her flowers for her birthday – in secret. Roses on her doorstep every year – no card, but she knew who sent them.
He became a widower three years ago. They are sweethearts now, he’s fucking up aunties medicine, spilling hot coffe over her – and she’s doing the same for him, and she probably eats his prostate-medicine as well.
They are like… teenagers. A bit demented maybe, but very much in love.
First date: She made dinner for him, he went tired, but refused to sleep in her bed, because the neighbours (or anyone else, the doors are never locked up north) could get the wrong idea.
When you told me this story some time ago, l told you that if someone cold pull a wonderful piece of literature out of it, it was you for sure.
Their love is…. LOVE with capital L.
l am patiently waiting.
🙂
So warm and loving and hot all at the same time.
those instants, VB, those instants make everything worth.
Så nydelig Silvia *sukk*
…og Arthur,den historia,om di grandtante,den ynskjer eg også å lese.Fantastisk,-og den gir håp for lengtande sjeler 🙂
Takk MT 😉
vi skulle “presse” Arthur litt så han kan “indulge” oss med historien 🙂
press,press….. 🙂
A moment. You so wonderfully captured in words.
thanks, babe 🙂
ah…you captured it so well…now, if only to bottle that feeling, and pour it in a glass with bourbon…
Qurli,
everything with bourbon would make it… YES!
😀