Coming in from the cold, I feel your hand on my arm, tugging my coat off my frame. The warmth stripping away left me with the mildest chill. Tiny goose bumps cascade down my arms, my shoulders, my collarbone, my chest. You absentmindedly smooth my hair down, caressing my shoulder and back as you do.
We've entered a warm pub, a quiet but friendly place. A little off the beaten path, but by the way the bartender greets you, I can tell you've been here many times. He watches the way you lead me to the bar and show me to my seat. You lean over to whisper in my ear and the feel of your breath against me makes my breath catch.
I watch you with the softest eyes, the most delicate glances. I can physically feel your eyes upon me as you respond. The bartender smiles and greets me as you introduce us and we both notice the way his eyes travel my body, the cold having brought out the texture in my skin. You order our drinks and as we're waiting, you take your liberties enjoying a moment with me.
Watching my eyes carefully, you touch my face. The gesture alone makes me shiver, makes me feel more alive than I awoke feeling. Your fingers trace my jaw line, then my tender neck, dipping in the hollow at the base of my throat and then onto my breast bone. Gently massaging me with your fingertips, you watch the goose bumps increase and you know this time, it has nothing to do with the cold outside. I look around and notice a few sets of eyes on us. The bartender returns with our drinks, places the napkins down first, then the drinks and then a smile. He takes a moment casually watching as my breath quickens.
You can feel the tension in my body. You recapture my eyes with yours, your look conveying so many things we need never say. A shiver sweeps over me, my whole body buzzing. Our silent conversation continues as I watch your attention turn from me, back to the bartender. I feel you cup my breast through my shirt as I hear him tell you "she's beautiful". I hear you thank him for the compliment as you begin caressing and gently pinching my nipples through my shirt. My breathing becomes a bit ragged, although I still attempt to keep my composure, and then need to squirm in my seat becomes absolutely undeniable. Your gentle hand on my thighs, nudging them apart makes me moan aloud.