morning bus affair
every morning, at around 7:45, we make love in the air.
her eye lashes would always attempt to kiss mine each time our lips would lock to catch a breath of each other’s soul. she would always utter soft moans as i trace the outlines of her earlobes with my tongue. i would follow the racing droplets of sweat from her neck to the valleys of her bosom down to the oasis in her abdomen. the undulating movement of her body moves in synch with the movements of the bus, thus making the pleasure more electrifying; it hits the nerves from the toe, to the spine, up to the lust-hungry brain.
my fingers would play with the skin of her erogenous zones, caressing, tickling and teasing till it breathes out the steam and the moisture of love. my moistened fingers would explore the virgin areas of her body that sends her to move in sync with the undulating movements of the bus.
every day, at around 7:45 in the morning, our spirits make love in the air.
riding a bus to work is always a dive to the sea of multi-cultural strangers. each trip is a swim against the swarm of races. from americans, to asians, to hispanics, to africans down to the cross-bred individuals who view each other as a stranger; cold, afraid, intimidating, and posing a character to shield the self from the judgmental world. but if you try to observe closer, you will discover that the strangers around you are not that strange after all.
it was monday when the sparks start flying between me and this stranger. she is a princess crowned with a pony-tail of bronze with streaks of copper. her amber eyes highlight the strength of her character that she triumphantly demonstrates with her posture. the blank expression that she wears makes the blood on her lips glow with her skin. she is a creature caught inside the body of a woman on its transitional stage of innocence to full bloom maturity.
the innocence of her aura makes her more exciting. she knows how to play, to flirt, and to entice with her eyes. you can easily sense her repressed joy as you chase her eyes, desperate to establish contact- to communicate, to relate the degree of passion in your heart, to show praise, to make love.
she knows her game. aside from being a close reflection of liv tyler, with a body of similar features with jessica biel, she exudes an enchanting charm that poisons my guard and weakens me to your knees in such a way that i wouldn’t want to move an inch away from her. she would shoot me0 with her piercing looks the moment i would pretend to glance away from her. those are the golden moments, the rare moments for me to seize the opportunity to commune with her, to make love with her.
in a fraction of a second, as i summon all the elements of courage from my system, i catch her eyes and told her my intentions. it is the fastest, yet the most complicated form of discourse that i’ve ever had in my life. it more than sensual, it is spiritual. on that fraction of a second, i’ve told her through my eyes that i like her, and that i wanted to make love with her, that i wanted to kiss her, that i wanted to marry her someday, that i wanted to share my spirit with her. then she looked away, breathing heavily, for she has lost her guard.
it was on monday, at around 7:45 in the morning that we first made love.
i know i have reasons to celebrate my triumph for she sent me a faint smile after we made love in the air. since then, every bus ride in the morning is nirvana (at least for now). and yes, i still don’t know her name yet. but i will. soon, after we retire our affairs inside the bus.