I wish that we had had the chance to ride the subway together. I have been thinking about that lately. Getting on the at Dupont circle stop about midnight – did you know that they have one of the longest escalators in the world. I would use that slow ride down the platform well. I would stand on the step in front of you and wrap my arms around your waist. I would start kissing your neck as you lean in just a bit closer. My hands would wander from your waist to firmly press that spot where your shoulder blades meet and back again, just for the sake of taking the trip. You would lean down a little more to let us kiss. We would start slowly with gentle touches that last for an eternal moment and build until our mouths are hungry for each other. I would bite your lower lip as the strength of our embrace increases and our bodies whisper “yes.” About halfway down the escalator, my hands warm with desire, would find the hem of your skirt, the back of your knee. Fingers would run gently up your thighs, as our kiss digs deeper. Finding bare skin, I realize you are wearing the thigh-highs that excite me so. You lean around to my ear and with a tug of your teeth hiss a seductive “you’re welcome”. Twenty feet left, ten feet.
We both pray that the train car is empty.
p.s. yes, this post is about someone specific; no it is not ADA; no, that person has never and will never read this.