Touch me

I just need to be touched.

I shivered as his fingers traced a path up my thigh, slowly, lifting my skirt. As he slipped his hand under my blouse. As he traced the curves of my body.

Touch me.

Caressing, gently. Stroking, all over. Feeling... a strange love. And it is a strange love indeed, for a friend who turns lover, if only for one night.

And in the morning, I bade him farewell. Friends, once again. Friends, as always.