A dance

A feather could not touch my skin more softly than his fingers as they smoothed my arms, my shoulders, my neck till warm hands cupped my face, eyes seemingly slumberous as his lips approached mine never touching but rather hovering, a teasing warm breath before hands slipped to the wall on either side of my face, cheek caressing cheek, nose buried in my hair, my ear, my neck, breathing deeply as if life were to be found in me, then lips leaving a slick trail of fire to the space between my breasts then back up to my lips, one hand settling low on my hip pulling our bodies flush, the other moving behind my head, holding firm as lips then tongues met, entwined, danced.