The Waiting Room

Description: We’re just sitting in this quiet waiting room… but you’re not exactly waiting, are you? i’m reading my book, legs crossed, heels dangling off my toes like i don’t have a care in the world. meanwhile, you’re completely locked in, consumed by every little swing, every slap of my heel against my sole. you think i don’t notice? oh, i notice. and once i catch on, i make sure to dangle them just right… slower, longer, noisier… eventually, i let you have a little fun. why not? it’s just us, right? i keep my eyes on my book while you stroke to the rhythm of my heels, the sound of tapping, syncing with your desperate strokes. i barely glance your way, but every time i do, it’s to encourage you. just a little push, while you lose yourself right in front of me. but then… i see you’re close. really close. so i tell you to hurry up. get over here and make a mess all over my feet. quick, before one of us gets called back and we get caught…