Extravagant wedding feast pales in comparison to ivory skin and stormy sea-green eyes watching from across the room.

My wife sits by my side — russet ringlets falling softly, just brushing her soft, plump breasts.

She rests her head on my shoulder with a sweet sigh — her jasmine fragrance caressing my senses in the same manner that those sea-green eyes caress me from afar.

A little thing, younger than I, but far more ‘experienced.’

I wonder if the wanting is clear in my expression — I hope to hide it as they draw close.

My wife straightens and claps her hands with glee. “You made it, oh I am glad!”

We had met before, you understand, in secret. When hot panted breaths crashed like ocean waves.

I offer my hand, and smooth fingers slide across my palm when it is released.

“Rolph my darling, I am thrilled to introduce my cousin Derek.”

This entry was posted in Fiction, Ramblings, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Hitch

  1. LizScanlon says:

    Oh wow!!!! Just… wow!

    Liked by 1 person

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