Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357
Last night, I was in your kitchen. Listening to music and dancing around all by myself. There’s something so comfortable about being in your space all alone. Breathing in your home and feeling the comfort of your arms without you being there to hold me.
I didn’t expect you home for an hour or so. Work often holds on to you later than we both think it will. I was so into the song and stirring what was in the pan that I didn’t hear you come in. As my hips swayed with the rhythm of the music and I didn’t sense you watching me. Not even when you slipped behind me and wrapped your arms around my waist.