Her red lipstick remained sketched onto the plastic straw in my drink.

"I wasn't sure if I were ever going to see you again," she said, her eyes glued to the glass.

She looked up slowly, her gaze meeting mine, our eyes locked in a sort of metavisual tug-of-war as that of any timid prey animal that were invading a new environment, scanning the local terrain of patterns both visual and auditory, with no sense not put to good use, in order to ensure its safety from the abundance of unknown dangers that may possibly lie ahead in wait. The main difference here being that we do know each other. Our unfamiliar environment was the playground of the other's imagination, and our danger, the intensity of our feelings towards one another.

"I'm so happy to be here with you." Her face blushed with a slight red and her mouth formed into a smile. Not a forced one, I'll add.

It had been some time since I last had experienced sexual tension like this, but there was something familiar about sharing the feeling with Talia right here and now.

We both took a second to savor the moment.

She balled her hand into a fist and rested her head on her knuckles as she let out a deep sigh. I examined her face, just as she did mine. Her eyes glistened in the combination of moonlight and bar ambiance. Her nose scrunched as she made a face at me, her lips and cheeks both red and plump with sexual frustration.

"Are you not aware that I would move mountains for you?" I all but whispered, butterflies swarming in the pit on my stomach, building cocoons in my chest. She rolled her eyes, intentionally ignoring what I had said, giggled and took another sip of my drink, finally breaking our gaze. A burst of Latin music from the street outside suddenly plauged the opposite end of the bar, the bass thumping rhythmically across the floor of the venue before passing through us and quickly disappearing into the melody of night.

For a breif moment when looking into her eyes I felt as if I had been dreaming and peered further into some other sort of lucid experience, like a dream within another dream. Now sober, back in the present, all I could think of was that odd sensation of waking up while concious. Was that even possible?

Before I knew it, however, we were again locked into a battle of gazes; this time without words but still speaking with what seemed to be energy, followed by the occasional moment of awkward chuckles and chortles. It was as if we could both hear each other's thoughts. Even without physical contact, I could feel her heart beat synchronize with mine; The rhythm overwhelming the clutter of cars, conversations and other various noises that occur on a hot summer's night in a small bar on the main strip of a heavily-populated beach town in any Latin-blooded country. The rhythm winded up and down, just as our gazes did the same. I realized we were learning things about each other with no verbal information being exchanged.

In this circumstance, no combination of words can convey a better message than the look on your lover's face. Her eyes, alone, spoke more profoundly without words than her mouth ever could with them.

I might need a chainsaw to cut through this sexual tension, I laughed to myself. Something told me she was thinking the same thing.

At one point, I found myself wondering if the voice in her head might be mine, as is often the case vice versa. Were I actually able to forget about this woman, I felt a piece of her would always resonate somewhere in my brain, anyway. At some point a very long time ago, her honey coated, slightly-Brooklyn accented voice had charmed it's way into the conductor's quarters of my thoughts, where she now plays the voice of reasoning in my head every so often. Even when I momentarily forget who she is, or what I feel for her, or even when I forget who I am; Every now and again, I still hear her. Living some where in my thoughts. Voicing concerns and reasons. Not necessarily good or bad ones, mind you. Just reasons. In this way, she's literally a piece of me. Two pieces, one puzzle, right?

The bar was dimly lit. Two overhead lights were on, but most of the ambience came from strategically-placed candles that lit up the room with all sorts of different colors, primarily white and red. The entire structure was open on each side, and moonlight spilled over counter tops and on top of tables, brightening up the remainder of the areas that candlelight could not.

Despite the lowlight conditions, stars twinkled on her face. Glittering cheeks, rose red lips and a gentle golden brown nose. Her eyes, a unique shade of amber, set the room on fire with a vibrant burgundy but then choked it in a smoke cloud of deep brown. For yet another moment, every second we had ever spent together rested in the space between her iris and her pupil.

I kept thinking to myself, What a pain in the ass this woman is. How does she do this? How does she have this type of control over me? It's like she can she read my thoughts. Is that it? Can you hear me, T? Can you hear what I'm thinking right now?

Like a thought being projected into my head, I could hear her face say, "Yes I can and you're an idiot for thinking otherwise."

We said nothing for a few minutes before the bartender finally interrupted our telepathic conversation.

"Disculpe amigos, pero necesitamos cerrar el bar. Puedo ofrecerte una última copa si lo deseas, gratis."

I looked up at the bartender. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see that Talia was looking at me, waiting for me to answer, having not understood what the gentleman said. I responded in English,

"Thank you but I think we're good. Have a great night."

I paid for our drinks. We started straightening up the countertop of our mess when, for some odd reason, I felt compelled to take the straw with her lipstick marks and stuff it into my pocket. Sentimental value, I guess. I grabbed the rest of her things and we shuffled towards the door, drunk in love, high off of lust, unaware but excited for whatever the next adventure of the night would be.

"The pool? The beach?" I asked her. She fluttered her eyes and very sensually responded back to me, "I would go anywhere with you."

I raised my eyebrows and gave her a look. "Okay, so my place. Got it."

She started laughing, "Stop being bad!" And blushed as she punched my arm; her eyes wide with enthusiasm, her voice, stern yet playful.

"To the pool, it is."

We made our way down the strip towards the hotel, the streets bathed in fluorescent lighting. Black and purple hues reflected off of the environment around us and blended everything together into a haze of unrecognizableness. No distinguishable features could be processed from anything more than 4 feet away. Though the strip was lit up, it seemed to be darker than ever.

For a reason I could not understand, this visual image made me think of her dark red lipstick and how it had stained the straw in my pocket only minutes earlier. How could a benign image being painted onto any sort of mundane, everyday object then change the way you perceive it? What was once an ordinary object, maybe even an eyesore, something so trivial that you would have not otherwised bothered to notice it; once graffiti'd over, breathes entirely new life into an entity that only exists ontop of the object or wall or straw that you would normally never look at twice. Certainly not, at least, with admiration. Why the fuck else would I possibly think to put a straw in my pocket for safekeeping?

Once we had arrived back into civilization, where the lights were once again glowing a yellowish-orange and the world lit up into recognizable patterns of cars, plants and faces alike, I realized just how alone the two of us were together. Not in the literal sense. We were, after all, surrounded by the tourists and locals and the other creatures that resided along this city strip. But metaphorically speaking; The world behind us seemed to subside into an oblivion of nothingness, and we were the lone, weary travels exploring the last bit of what remains of humanity, destined to live the rest of our lives stuck walking along unfamiliar blocks in a dead city in Puerto Rico. Surrounded, yet somehow, alone.

The entire walk, we spent having meaningless chit-chat. Meaningless in this sense, of course, not so meaningless. The insignificant is very significant when you are in the presence of romance. I was somewhere lost in my thoughts when I heard her say,

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Not yet, but it just might if you keep speaking to me like that."

"BAD!" She exclaimed, as she laughed and ran ahead of me. I gave a short chase before we were side-by-side, and immediately upon my arrival, she hip checks me into a bush.

I catch myself before falling. "UNCALLED FOR!" I shout at her. She was unphased.

No matter how many times I heard her shriek with excitement over the tiny Coqui frogs that inhabited the plants that I had grown up alongside of (and were therefore completely accustomed to), or how many times the wind wafted her hair into my face while I was trying to speak over the sound of rustling bushes, every moment felt as if it featured a hint of God within it. The entire time, I felt as if I were in a trance of some sort.

We arrived at the pool outside the hotel. Upon entering the gate, fake rocks and real plants surrounded the outer perimeter of the large backyard patio creating small pathways through the man-made rainforest that lead to the inground cement structure, which was now surrounded by chairs and umbrellas in its inner perimeter. The song of the tiny Coqui frogs filled the damp summer air. The laughter of friends in rejoice and trees rustling in the wind played alongside their melodies and gave them a sort of rhythm to sing along to.

The midnight glow of the moon, absorbed by the water, painted the area with tones of blue and white so much more intense than the orange lights that were radiating along the structure's edge. The picture was that of a lonely body of water; only one small friend group consisting of maybe 3 or 4 young men and another group of two, what i presumed to be a young couple. Scattered items stretched across opposite ends of the pool, along with their towels, bags and etc. The only thing that seemed to be missing was someone with a bluetooth speaker.

As we sat on the beach chairs next to the flowing water, I asked her how she ended up in Puerto Rico at the same place, at the same time as I did. She shrugged. "I don't know, honestly. Do you think it's destiny?"

"No, I think you're a stalker."

She blushed and pinched my arm. "Asshole! Maybe great minds just think alike. Have you ever thought about that?"

Concern grew on my face. All the previous shenanigans her and I had participated in together began to play in my head, as if watching a movie made out of memories. I wondered out loud, "Are the two of us really great minds?"

She took a moment and then shrugged again. "I'm not sure about that specifically, but I do know that we do great things."

She had the same sequence of memories play through her head as I just had and still managed to put a positive spin on it. This thought caused a smile to bloom onto my face.

"Especially when we're together." I added.

A big smile came over her face as she looked away from me. I could tell that sentence had tapped into something deep within her. I'm not sure what she was thinking but I could only watch as she pondered her thoughts for a minute or so, searching for an honest rebuttal but unable to come up with one. She then pushed herself off the chair and dipped her feet into the water, gesturing for me to follow. A fool, I would be, to do anything but. I sat right next to her as she took ahold of my arm and attempted to pull me into the water, quickly failing to do so and falling into pool, bouyant and strong enough to keep the very top of her neck above the waterline.

"Bitch, I have a hundred pounds on you!" I yelled in her direction. She put on a mean face, pool water just up past her breasts, and shouted back, "Bitch!"

I laughed and stood up along the pools edge, towering over her, staring with devilish intent; an evil grin slowly forming on my face. Her eyes met mine again as she let out a gasp.

"COQUI, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"

But of course, I was going to. I jumped into the space of water behind her. I kept myself underwater for a few extra seconds in an attempt to swim towards to deeper end, past where she would be able to grab me, only to resurface and be met with the cry, "YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!"

I didn't even have a chance to wipe the water from my eyes before she jumped directly onto my back and proceeded to push me down into the water, like an alligator trying to drown a prey too big to consume whole.

Oh she thinks she's tough!

With another hundred and thirty pounds strapped to my back, I twist and turn and push off the bottom of the structure, shooting back up towards the surface and falling backwards back into the water. She lets go. I grab her arm, pull her in and we resurface together.

She spits water into my face just as I am finally able to wipe my eyes clear. I laugh and splash her some more.

"You're fucking up my hair and my make-up!" She exclaimed, rushing away from me.

"Sucks to suck, doesn't it?"

She chuckles, the anger genuine but fleeting, and makes towards the edge of the pool. I follow right behind her, grabbing her hips and pulling her in towards me before she could pull herself up onto the ledge. She turns and hugs me tight. Everything ceases. The river water stopped flowing. The Coqui frogs stopped singing their nightly lullabies. Even the laughter from the other night dwellers subsided. In that moment, the only thing I noticed was how fast the blood was speeding through our bodies; our hearts participating in a sort of relay race, body temperatures skyrocketing and melting into one large conglomeration of pure heat, scorching the cement and rock that lay around the ledges. I could smell the flames that were burning under her skin.

The water around us had almost started to boil by the time we pulled away from each other. This time when we met each others gaze, we were immediately overcome with what felt of primal instinct, and managed to speak out in unison;

"Let's go to the room."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking for a role playing partner to help figure out what happened once they got back to the room :)

I'm playing Coqui, the 30 year old kid-from-the-slums turned crooked businessman with a lover's heart only for his life long, on and off again sweetheart Talia.

Coqui is Puerto Rican. Catholic upbringing. Dark brown skin, dark green eyes, short curly black hair, thick beard & thin mustache, wide shoulder frame with a lean abdomen and a healthy bulge at all times on both sides. 5'10.

You'll play Talia, the 30 year old established businesswoman with a taste for the criminal underworld, who's only weakness in life is the same man that she is prohibited to be with due to her family.

Talia is Moroccan. Jewish upbringing. Goldish light brown skin, amber colored eyes, long wavy brunette hair, tall cheek bones & plump lips, perky breasts, child bearing hips and an ass that doesn't quit. 5'4.

The idea is an ongoing lovers quarrel that eventually led to a night of soft & romantic yet aggressive & unadulterated passion. Every single feeling the duo has experienced for one another comes to light in a dance of bodies that can only happen during an unexpected encounter at a random time in life, after so much time of inability. The sexual tension is too much to bare and now it's time for their fantasies to come to life. And of course, the duo have sex until it's no longer physically possible to continue, so feel free to write until it hurts the same.

KINKS / LIKES INCLUDE: Foreplay, flirting, sexting, breeding, feet, romance & intimacy, BDSM, knife play, spitting, kissing, choking, name calling, literally any bodily liquid except for 💩 etc. Very open-minded in this field

LIMITS: scat, intense violence, incest

I hope yall enjoyed, I'm excited to hear from yall! xoxo