Everytime I chew vanilla-mint, I think of you.
Those few nights we had, filled with laughter and fun, the air charged with hormones. Trading jokes and playful jabs over dinner, then sitting around afterwards, being happily full of our own haphazard cooking. Pulling out the vanillamint gum while we sat and digested, saying out loud that it made for an excellent dessert..
And finally falling on each other in an undeniable, almost violent passion. Chasing the chewy mint with my tongue, my fingers tracing the inside of your leg as you laughed, playing an intimate game of keepaway.
To me, the taste of vanillamint will always remind me of the taste of you. The taste of your mouth, the feel of your skin under my hands, the aggressiveness of our shared passion and the way our eyes would meet, occasionally, filled with everything we were feeling - and everything more that I wanted..
Somehow I will always remember how the back of your neck felt under my hand; the softness of your short hair, the heat under your skin.
Then there would come the breaking off, the realization of the lateness of the hour, and the fact that we both had places to be the next day, too early for such late-night escapades. It would be my fault that neither of us got to bed when we meant to - I always wanted more, and couldn't keep my hands off you long enough to say goodbye.
I have never felt such lust for a person, and I am lost in it. Ours is a secret passion - and the danger of it makes me want it all the more.