irish spring

I begin to wash my hands and pick up the light green bar of soap lying next to the sink. As soon as the soap hits my wet hands the lather starts to build and with it the smell of freshness. The Irish spring smell flows up to my nose and right away, I hear the sound of deep pounding strong and fast. I can feel the dark red flannel sheets on my skin and right away I know I’m in your bed. The smell of musk surrounds me and I can smell the soap on your skin. I feel your chest rise and fall as you breathe in and out. I try and match my breathing to yours, deep breath in one two three and I breath out. I breathe faster than you so I can never seem to hold it as long, yet my heart beats slower quieter and I can barely hear it over the loud sound of thumps coming out of your chest. You push my hair back gently with your hand and stroke the side of my face. I squeeze myself tightly against you and breathe in deeply the smell of Irish spring then I’m back to washing my hands as the memory goes down the drain with the soapy remains of the Irish spring smell.

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