Las Vegas Cab Ride
by Mike Schulz
 
Her dress hung sleekly
to the floor,
clinging to her hips,
blue and gray and
gray and blue,
long and slim
as she sat down in the back seat.
The skinny straps stood out
just enough on her bare shoulders.
A blue-white light softly lit
her face through the window
as the glowing moon
reflected off the darkness.
He reached out
slowly ŠdiscreetlyŠ
his hand running smoothly
across the back of her neck,
softly twisting the short curls in her hair
around his fingers.
Stroking the back of her head,
his fingers became a soothing comb,
each pass creating a different sensation,
each sensation heightening arousal.
And with a subtle slide of his
thumb across her cheek,
like wiping a fallen tear,
her eyes closed.
They imagined,
in their darkness,
comfortable hands, massaging away
an exhausting evening
of torturuous private attractions,
in constant public surroundings.
And as the night relaxed,
She opened her eyes.
They sparkled in the soft light,
thanking him for the comfort.
He glanced at her,
briefly,
and closed his eyes,
to the scent of
fading perfume and fragrant fruits,
mixed together on her skin
by the night air.
Desire flowed through his fingers
And her eyes closed again, but
the car pulled to a stop,
and with it,
the slow methodical caress
and the breeze of cool air.
And as they walked away
he took her hand in his
and the blue night turned warm.

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