Both hands
Your hand burning into my thigh as I drive along the street and you tell me to let you know if it’s too distracting. I keep my eyes on the road but I can still feel it on me months later. Your fingers tracing across my skin, holding me against you, flicking across my clit, thrusting in and out of me and I buck and I moan and i grab at you as I come again and again. Our hands entwined in secret, hidden behind the backs of others, holding each other steady in silent streets. The wedding ring that shines too brightly, that’s always visible, your fingers in my mouth, the taste of me on your skin, the touch still burnt into me.