She saw him first That number she had always meant to call Sitting alone at a table Sipping his coff
She saw him first That number she had always meant to call Sitting alone at a table Sipping his coffee She was in the loud crowd that he was trying to ignore So she found the number And she risked a message And she saw him read it, look for her and wave And she wanted his eyes on her again So she sent a flirtier message While buffeted and trapped by her ribald friends And his eyes were now fixed on her And she enjoyed the feeling And her pulse raced And he tapped something out A calculated, risky monologue Line after line of delicious text In elegant words, his slow mental stripping of her Her eyes were on his Lips atremble The next message was through And as she read she flushed pink And her thighs were opening with the heat -- source link
#mytext