Rear View

You kissed me and got out of the car, opened the back passenger door to get your bag, wished me a good day and left.

I watch you walk away.

I am filled with longing. I have always liked the view of your backside in jeans and I know when we first me you would put your hands into your jeans pockets to lift your coat so I could see it as I walked behind you with the girls in our class.

You go round the corner and your rear view vanishes so I lift my gaze to your head. My mind wanders to the feel of your stubble on my neck when you kiss and bite me – heat pools in my nether regions.

I have one eye on the traffic lights in front of me, I know they will change soon and I will have to drive away.

You glance to your right and I see your profile briefly as you do. The longing intensifies. I am so happy to be yours. I feel so privileged that you choose to be mine, my Sir, my husband. You step into the road. There is a car behind me.

The lights change, and I, reluctantly put the car into gear, release the handbrake and pull away. I pass you as I turn left onto the road.

I love you Sir, and I miss you already. I glance in my rear view mirror – you are gone.

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