Davo

by N.R. Walker

How could the cold water be hot? Lord. But at least it washed the dirt and sweat off my body. It also made me sweat, which was the opposite of what I’d wanted. It was the quickest shower of my life.

It was so hot my shoes squished on the road like the rubber was melting. I had to squint so my eyes didn’t dry out. My skin sizzled for the ten seconds it took me to walk there, the sweat searing like oil on my skin. It hurt my lungs, but oh boy, did it make me move. I made it inside the hall, my hand to my heart, aghast. Humans were not supposed to live in this.

He grinned. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth. I put my other hand on his side, his waist, feeling the taut muscles under my palm. Then I made the mistake of looking down. The bulge in the front of his skirt was now caught in the bunch of the fabric, and satin was unforgiving. It spared no detail. It was glorious.

I’d pushed my salad around with the fork so much it was beginning to wilt. The salad, not the fork. And my mood.

“Good boy,” I said quietly. “Quiet boys don’t go in the fridge.” I sounded like Hannibal freaking Lecter.

snatched up the apple and cut it into slices. He was very happy with this development, bouncing and whistling as he watched. “You like apple?” I asked. “Good boy. Quiet boys are good boys. Quiet boys get apple.” And now I sounded like a creepy sex offender. This was all so wrong.

Hooker decided to pipe up with “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” while doing his little bouncy dance, and I was going to reprimand him, but honestly, same, bird. Same.

“Earth would have been nothing but a fiery, volcanic planet, rivers of lava, that kind of thing.” He sighed. “And now here we are, three billion years later, and I’m lucky enough to exist at the same time as you.”

He had his arms out, the ribbon on his skirt tousled in the breeze, and so god help me, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“I’m going to take my time with you tonight,” I murmured before kissing him, teasing him with my tongue. “Slow, deep. And your skirt stays on.”