Armani Mania

Pooling forward brown strands,
azure eyes blinded, blinking.
My hands itching, itching,
itching to brush it aside.

I finger his belt lightly,
sliding along his waist.
Startled jerks, ticklish giggles.
Our thoughts hazy with booze.

His heart racing, mine follows, Why?
Excitement? Nerves? Lust? Desire?
Continued strokes up his stomach,
smooth skin against my palm.

My unsure actions, wants, stop me.
Is this okay? He's a friend, not a lover.
How will this affect us?
Is this what we want? Yes!

Another chuckle, his smile beckons me,
mouth like chocolate, tempting.
My lips ache to touch his.

Another swig of Moosehead,
lost in overconfidence.
I want him to touch me,
I want him to want me.

His Armani Mania seduces me,
It fills my senses, fills me.
I'm lost to it, lost to him.
The mania changes me, charges me.

I can't stop, can't think,
He's mine, he's beautiful, serene.
The alcohol takes control,
I don't stop, I won't.

He's mine due to the damn
Armani Mania...