Reeves
Watching Nia dance has become my favorite leisure time activity. There are more than a dozen good looking women showcasing their goods for an enthusiastic crowd at the small dance floor in the bar, but they don't even hold a candle to her. My eyes feast on her and her only, because there's nothing else in this universe that I'd rather watch. Her hips sway to the music, revealing a sliver of taut olive skin. Her tight jeans end low beneath her navel, her white halter-top kissing the skin just above it. Her dark, luminous strands fall heavily, framing her delicate face while hovering over her perky breasts. Her eyes are closed, her pouty lips slightly parted, reminding me of her ecstasy face, right before she falls to pieces under me. My heart tightens as I watch her, thinking of how much I love her. How much I need her. How much she's changed my life for the better.