Only days
before he knocks at my door
wondering what he will find inside…
will I be naked and waiting for him?
Will I be clad only in a bathrobe?
Will I be wearing some sexy lingerie?
Will I be on my knees,
naked,
mouth slightly open
inviting him inside?

Only days before he arrives
and my mind flits to images of him
between my legs,
moving down to taste me
before my eyes close in ecstasy;
images of him, pushing my head
down until he can feel
the heat of my mouth on
his flesh, my tongue teasing the shaft,
my lips sucking lightly at his balls;

images of him pressing my knees up
to gain access to
that forbidden place,
eyes on mine
concentrating on the control
needed to take me slowly,
until the barrier is passed
and our bodies move together
to achieve the bliss
we need so badly.

Anticipation as we count the days,
the hours,
the minutes,
until we can
lose ourselves in each other
for a short time.

Anticipation —
it is how I get through the days
not knowing what we are,
not knowing if this will ever be enough,
not knowing how much time I will have with him.
Anticipation — I won’t give it up easily.