This week’s theme: Flame.
“Touch it.” She giggles, nervous, but I persist. “Touch it.”
I watch her as she looks into my eyes, sees the seriousness there, realizing I’m not just teasing her. As she reaches her hand out toward it her tongue darts out to moisten her bottom lip, teeth right after it, tugging at the soft skin that I am aching to touch.
She smiles and glides her fingers through the flame once, knowing that the middle of the teardrop-shaped heat will not burn her fingers, only slightly hesitant because of that. Each movement of her hand is graceful, it seems to float up and around in fluid motions. I envy her hands.
I grin as she bites her lip again, her nervousness all the more adorable. She was the one who asked, who had been curious about trying it since she saw me doing it at the last play party, who had mentioned to me that she would like to try it some time that same night. She had tried to be nonchalant when she suggested it, too, but I could see the places her facade had cracked, showing the nervous girl behind it.
She has already taken off her top, my hand gestures for her to lay down and again she moves like a dancer, lying on her back so that I can have access to her abs and belly to roll my hot stick across. I take my torch, steeped in alcohol, and bring it to the teardrop fire her fingers were so recently caressing. In a burst of light the flame is transferred and I hear her gasp.