When the doors closed, I wanted to close the gap between us and pull you down for a kiss. I wanted to feel your lips on mine.
I wanted to feel your hands on my back, my waist, my ass as the elevator moved.
Hoping it wouldn’t stop so we could be alone for the ride down.
But, I never could figure out how to bridge the gap.
We were alone again when we reached our destination. We had a perfect time and opportunity again. But, I hesitated.
I hesitated and didn’t show what was under that shirt I was wearing. I had caught you trying to catch a glimpse all day. And that shirt would have made it so easy too. I could have felt your hands and lips on my tits, maybe even a nipple had we been so bold. Hell, I would have been bold – there was no “if” there.
You could have maybe even found out what thong I was wearing. I caught those sly glances towards my legs. I could tell you had hoped I wouldn’t be so careful and lady-like in how I had been sitting. I would have encouraged you to find out when we were alone. But, I started thinking too much. My brain got in the way.
The ride back up the elevator was tense for me. I wanted you so much. I love making out in an elevator, the risk of getting caught, the quick readjustments as it comes to a stop at the floor, and the fun that naturally ensues when the door to the hotel room closes.
But I hesitated. I started thinking. And I couldn’t get my brain to shut off. It was uninvited to this moment, and then it ruined it.
I often reflect on this moment as a reminder to myself. To be less cerebral and more spontaneous. To let go and just do. As I have found since then, good things happen when you let go and let things happen as they may. When you take chances – and not over think. It’s too bad this moment had to be lost for me to learn this lesson.
Sadly, many lost moments are the curse of thinking too much.. And I’m not quite sure whether the ones best avoided outweigh the ones we should have taken.. 🙂
As a chronic overthinker myself, my own thinking is I can usually fix regretting not doing something, but rarely can I fix the actual doing. In part it’s cause I assume if I regret doing something it’s not because of what it did to me but what it did to someone else. Which doesn’t really apply to this situation. You totally shoulda :-p
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I hate when my brain gets in the way! And now I’m thinking about what you might be referring to in this post…
Brains get in the way entirely too often. As much as I just want to “do” and not think about it, I always tend to over think it and end up not “do”-ing enough.