Biting my hand to hold back the sounds
that clamber to escape my throat,
blood rushes under my skin, and I thank the goddess
my cube mates have left.
Moderating my breath, trying not to gasp too loudly,
the thoughts you gave me fight me for control of my flesh.
God, how do you do
From most anyone else the words would have no effect,
but when they pass from your fingertips my back arches,
my lungs gasp for air, my stomach clenches,
and the warmth streams across my skin
Hours later the thoughts still want to reclaim me.
And then I feel so guilty.
Guilty for thinking of you like that
when you already have someone,
but wanting, oh god wanting,
to feel the touch of you inside me.
I think I need to stop.
Why do I want you like that?
Why can you do that to me?
Why do I keep coming back for more
when I know I shouldn't?
Biting my hand, as the thoughts return, I don't care