Face touch

I reach out to your face, you think I am going to pet your cheek, I do that, pet your cheek, or cup your jaw gently or just touch your face, just to touch. I don’t pet you though, this time… I cover your face with my hand, it is an odd kind of claiming, you are awkward under it, waiting for… something.

The heel of my hand against your chin, my thumb and pinkie splayed over your cheeks, the other fingertips touching your forehead, your eyes. I can feel your breathing, warm against the palm of my hand, my fingertips move lightly over your skin, a touch to your eyelid, feeling your eye fluttering underneath, moving away to see you peek at me like a child playing.

This melts me, somehow, it is strange and intimate, this covering of your face. I wait for you to try and kiss my palm, but you are still and silent there, patiently watching me, waiting for me to get what I want out of it.

Eventually, I will move my hand to press against your lips, to cover your mouth, to make full contact. I will allow you to kiss my palm, feel your soft lips caress the sensitive skin there, you will close your eyes, and maybe make a sound with the simple pleasure of it. It will make my stomach flip and make me want to press into your face, to feel your skin give, your mouth slightly open as I push against it, your lips moving, and maybe your tongue will slip out and you will lap gently at my slightly salty skin.

And I will try to hold off on pushing harder against you, on grabbing at your face, on tightening my grip, on cutting off your breath… I will try, I will… and for a while, I will succeed.

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