Inescapable

I turn to look at you. It is late evening and you are laying next to me in an adjacent beach chair. You are on your side facing me, and I hold your gaze, searching your eyes. When you look away with a barely audible sigh, I reach with my hand to caress your dark hair back gently from your face. In the diffuse evening light, your skin is luminescent. My eyes trace down your neck, lingering on your collarbones and then down to your breasts barely covered by the open translucent white silk shirt you are wearing. I feel the moist gentle pull as you turn your face slightly to take my index finger into your mouth. I watch the curve of your lips as you suck on my finger, your eyes locking onto mine with a desire at once familiar and inescapable. I reach out with my other hand and pull you on top of me.

The waves are now loud enough that I can no longer keep them out of mind. The moonlit churn of the waves washes up to just a few feet away from my feet. In the very far horizon out on the sea, I can make out the shape of what must be a large ship. The breeze has picked up a bit, though it is still very warm and comforting. I can hear some faint voices and laughter every so often but their owners must be quite distant. There are no clouds in the sky and in the half-moon the stars are bright and feel close. It is a beautiful night, but I cannot remember how I came to be there on that beach.