The tales of Venice - 3

His hands were now running all around her body. His hands raced to have a feel of the softness of her skin paving a way through that sweater which he had pulled up from her waist. Her milky skin was burning hot under the touch of his digits, and she leaned closer in want for more. They had forgotten how to breathe, they had forgotten that they were hungry. It was pure lust that lingered in their eyes, which in fact were shut tight. The sense of touch was taking over them!

As his hands rode up, it was when she moaned that he realized that he had gone overboard.

He immediately detaches himself from her, but that takes the resolve of a mountain to do so. His hands were placed on her shoulder, and he was gasping for air, his eyes clenched tight.

"Why would you do that?" she asked a bit surprised with the sudden detachment. Her lips half pouting in longing.