When your eyes are irresistibly drawn to someone you barely know. Just the visual stimulus, that thing you like, that thin shy smile, the pretty fine cheekbones and just a touch of lipstick, or that scruffiness or the boyish play. Whatever it is that moves you you are looking. It seems beyond your control. An urge to feast on the vision of him or her moving through the room in the way you like best.
Of when you touch them, a hand paused on their arm, a hug. This person you know better, perhaps very well, an old lover maybe or a potential one. A friend that you will never meet past the chaste bounds of friendship. At any rate you are close enough to smell them. I think the smell is the thing anyway. Then there is this overwhelming desire to climb on top of them. You imagine their fingers inside you. Your body does not respect the bounds of social niceties. There is a pulsing and sometimes, when the wanting is particularly strong, there is a pain like there is something lodged in your vagina and bruising it, small internal punches to that most sensitive of parts. This must be about virility. Your body smells a potential future, drags you unwillingly to contemplate the copulation.
It is out of your control. You force yourself not to want him or her, but your body is responding as it shouldn't. Just a hug, a kiss on the cheek perhaps, but there is a whole evening ahead and you wrestle with the uncontrollable urges of your body, engaged in polite conversation with others, feeling the fleeting brush of his or her skin against yours.