Women Seeking Women #103

She kept him waiting years. 2014 hit her first. The footage didn't breathe, it only burned. Clip by clip his mouse lingered where her nightgown hit the light—then jerked away when he caught himself wanting more than the frame allowed. Her nipples pressed through silk like punctuation, making sentences out of shadows. Every tag flashed like an unlit match. Room empty. Lamp bruised yellow. Floor cold where her bare feet kissed it. He hit mute, liked the throb of silence while she mouthed the words no one was allowed to hear yet. Fifteen hundred seconds in a file named April and he counted each one like a thief skipping numbers. Laughter snuck into the corners when she twisted, thighs flashing, heat held hostage by the pause button. He stayed too long on her lower lip parted on a moan. Climbed back one frame earlier when her hand slid between her legs, wrist flexing once, twice, never gone. The moment stuck to his throat. Nothing about it softened. The file stuck to the drive. He made sure of that.