En Garde

The air crackled around them as she skillfully parried his advance.
She wasn’t trying to retreat and he wasn’t trying to press. It was just their way.
It wasn’t a game either but it was winner take all and they both intended to win.
He’d lean in a little closer to her, his mouth just a breath away from hers and she’d turn her head the slightest bit as an inappropriate remark would spill out of her, something silly enough to make him want to kiss her senseless but he’d laugh instead, biding his time.
She’d grow bolder as he’d lean back against the wall, hands in his pockets, an amused grin on his face and her body would unconsciously sway towards him, her fingers so dangerously close to his denim-covered thigh she could feel the heat of his skin through his jeans.
Advance and retreat.
Parry and thrust.
It was electric, the way their bodies called to one another on a primal level.
If you put them in a room with a black-light you’d see sparks shooting from their flesh when they were this close yet they would drag it out, letting the tension build to the point of imminent explosion and still they’d continue to fence.
Parry and thrust.
The lunge would come soon, it was inevitable of course but they’d dance back and forth, a slow glide of skin against skin here and there and a flicker of fire would shoot through their bodies fanning the flame of desire until it became uncontrollable, consuming them both.
When they’d finally reached their limit, when there was no more parry but only thrust they’d call it a draw and let nature take its course in a no holds barred dance of a different kind,the win sweeter for the wait.