Its a sunny sunday afternoon. An ordinary sunday afternoon. Like any other afternoon. Lunch’s done. you are sprawled in front of TV watching some sports channel while I’ve sneaked into the balcony to indulge in the sensory delight of written pages. My weekly quota of fiction. Its romance this time.
Before I know it, am asleep.
Sometime later , you request for a glass of juice only to be responded by silence. Lazily you walk to the kitchen, fill two glasses and walk towards me. You find me smiling in my dreams.
Then you move that errant curl that seem to have covered my cheek and gently caress. I settle in more snugly and smile. Mischievously, you hold the glass right in front of my lips. A drop then falls down and I, disturbed by this wet intrusion move on the side. The next drop fall on the exposed part of my neck. This drop trails down to hide in the my bosom. A delightful sensation seems to course through my body.
I open my eyes, find you smilingly holding out the glass to me and smile.
The chilliness of the juice, the sunny golden-ness of the early evening and your smoldering looks full of desire. This is perfect.
Note: This is where I am confused what to do. Should I let this story be as it is. Sweetly sensual but much left to imagination.. or should I raise the tempo and write an outright smokingly sexy write? But my limited experience with romantic interludes holds me back. I dont think I could do justice to that. What do you think?