Do you want me to get your back for you?"
Cringe. "No, I'm fine."
"Okay, then could you get mine? I don't really want the striped look you're going for. A little too trendy for me." He laughs, snapping the lid shut on his sunscreen bottle. He shakes it hard to force the lotion to the end, every muscle in his body tensing, releasing, tensing, releasing.
My jaw goes slack. He asked me a question. What was it? The cliché come to life? I hesitantly sit up and he's already on his knees on the end of my mat, back to me. "Oh. Okay, sure." I take the bottle from him and smear the lotion on the middle of his back as fast as I can. Why isn't it rubbing in? Too much, I took too much.
His body is solid under my fingertips. And tan. And solid. And sweaty. Overstimulation. Accelerated heart rate. Bad thoughts, Pippa. Stop.
Cringe. "No, I'm fine."
"Okay, then could you get mine? I don't really want the striped look you're going for. A little too trendy for me." He laughs, snapping the lid shut on his sunscreen bottle. He shakes it hard to force the lotion to the end, every muscle in his body tensing, releasing, tensing, releasing.
My jaw goes slack. He asked me a question. What was it? The cliché come to life? I hesitantly sit up and he's already on his knees on the end of my mat, back to me. "Oh. Okay, sure." I take the bottle from him and smear the lotion on the middle of his back as fast as I can. Why isn't it rubbing in? Too much, I took too much.
His body is solid under my fingertips. And tan. And solid. And sweaty. Overstimulation. Accelerated heart rate. Bad thoughts, Pippa. Stop.
( Kristin Rae )
[ Wish You Were Italian ]
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