Music festival

It’s hot, sun beating down, the light dappled by leaves from overhanging trees.

You are dancing, your hair held up in a coloured band, it bounces wildly as you fling yourself about to the beat. You are lost in it. I feel wave after wave of affection as I watch you, unselfconscious, intermittently closing your eyes to let the music move you. My stomach flips when your lithe body does a snaky little shimmy that you will probably never do exactly like that again. I want to watch you do that move over and over, but it’s gone.

I am silently urging you to take your t-shirt off. I know you will. Your fingers pluck at the hem of it, lifting it slightly to get some air onto your heated skin.

I watch young women sidle up beside you, swinging hips, opening their bodies to you. You smile widely at them, a smile of joy and welcome and comraderie. I see them glow under it. I smile also because you seem unaware that they are mistaking your friendliness for something else. Right now, though, they are your people and all are a part of you.

One of the pretty young girls slips in very close, moving in time with you. The corners of your mouth turn down, for a moment you are puzzled. You reach out and your fingertips touch her hipbone. She thinks you are drawing her in and she sways her hips towards you to the beat. You hold firm, your fingers not yielding to her movements. You are stopping her from getting closer. I want to laugh, it amuses me to watch you navigate the bodies on offer. You hold her away from you for a moment until she figures it out and moves away.

You glance over at me, to check that I am watching. I am. Of course. I see your face soften under my gaze, the music trance momentarily broken and now you are dancing for me. You swing your hips, make a little ‘come hither’ motion with your fingertips. I shake my head slightly and smirk at you. You laugh and shake your head back at me, raise your eyebrows. You hold my gaze, your body vibrating with the beat, you slip one hand up under your t-shirt, sliding your fingers up your abs, lifting the fabric to show me your muscles tensing and relaxing as you move.

I laugh out loud with the pleasure of it, unheard in the cacophony of music and offer you applause. You do a little bow, and smirk at me, an invitation, a provocation. Without missing a beat, you grab the bottom of your t-shirt and pull it off, your slick body still moving with the music.

I feel like I do a cartoon-gasp, lust rising into my throat, my jaw clenched, the smile sucked into a silent ‘oh’ of shock. You see my reaction and for a moment you stand still in the sea of bodies, transfixed, neither of us are smiling any more. I am drowning in it, struggling to breath, my whole body tensely coiled and you are frozen, pinned into stillness by the way I am looking at you. I mouth a word at you, your nostrils flare, your mouth opens, I know your cock is hard.

Fuck.