Nothing Like Work.

I want to just stand there kissing you forever.  Or at least until you no longer look like sex and happiness.  You break us apart only for a second.  Offer whispers cross cheeks fall into my ears...something about how do you want me...to touch you?  And so I tell you.  Soft and slow.  Work me up.  Work me down.  Work me over.  Work me out.  And you say this is nothing like work.  And you've sold me.  Sold like houses without escrow.  Houses bought with cash.  Houses bought with sweat.  You sold me without a sign.  Your hand.  Big like safety and potential.  Big like control and freedom.  Your hand that pulses with testosterone holds mine like baby fingers.  Excited, clasping, soft and you push it behind me.  Palm across the back pocket of my jeans and you manage to hold my ass and my hand at the same time.  Like popcorn snacks salty and sweet you make butter taste like chocolate and honey taste like lemons.  Everything you do sweeps me off my feet but your hand holds strong to support me.  Clings without crushing.  Grasps without breaking.  You stand there and you've got me.  Like really got me.  Another hand pulls me closer arm up and through mine round the back like a dance step and you twirl me.  We don't move but my head is spinning butterflies swirling and you twirl me.  Kiss me again you say like somehow my kisses are favors.  Like you're the luckiest boy in the world to be breathing upon my soft lips that you swear taste like cotton candy though you want to eat me like steak.  You make meat talk sexy.  You woo me with jokes.  You make laughter burn.  Hotter than Vegas.  You light me up like fireworks and hotel room sex in the middle of the night and then later again that night and than again in the morning just before the sun rises.  And afterwards.  You play with my hair just long enough to keep me awake.  Watch it arrive through our window.  Because you just knew how it would flicker off my eyes and spread apart my heart.  Like somehow my rise, my sway, my lift was all you needed to feel a beat in your chest.  You swoon for me.  I'm man enough to say swoon you tell me.  And as I watch the hair on your chest curl like wood shavings from a carpenter's plane I wholeheartedly believe you.  You rock me.  Like world championship fights.  Like quotes repeated 50 years later.  Sting like a bee.  And you move me.  Push me pull me make me want to break into two just so you could put me back together again.  Glue me with your hopes, ply me with your dreams and smoosh us together with questions that have answers we can only get to if we work together.  Nothing like work you say again and kiss me.  Those lips you say and I blush because I can't explain what you mean but I know that you mean it.  Absorb you in their softness cool you in their breeze and then burn you up whole.  You pull back again.  Only for a second but this time you don't say anything.  I hear everything.  In your panting.  In your smile.  In the way you look into my eyes with the kind of confident hope that swears the blue pools might just save you if you let them but you don't need it.  Like somehow your eyes and your grasp give me the freedom to love you as much or as little as I need and that exact amount will be all you ever wanted.  Like our love would never be a burden I would buckle under.  Like every moment would be like this one.  This very moment.  Where your kisses only ever give more.  More more more.  And Nothing feels like work.