I stood there with him next to me. He was going on about something with his friends. I think about a car or some sport or maybe it was about a party I ain’t so sure anymore. I remember exactly what was going through my mind.
Truthfully, I am not to blame for what I say next. Traditionally women shouldn’t even come out about such things. I’ve been brought up to be a ‘proper’ lady. The type of lady who would never kiss and tell. One who wouldn’t even kiss in the first place. Just this once allow me to throw all caution to the wind.
He holds my hand for merely a minute . He’s playfully hitting me and I can’t really give meaning to that but once his touch is not on me I’m paralysed. I crave it. I want more than a single touch or maybe…I am too close , with my height predicament I’m positioned just where all the cologne diffusion begins. The scent is sweet and has a spicy finish. As the scent wafts its way to me it is like my body is running on gasoline I feel an incontrollable surge of power.
They say the eye is powerful. It’s a window to one’s soul – in his eyes I see depth. A richness in life that no human has offered me yet. But right now, this moment when he finds my eyes and looks into them as he strategically forms a smile on his face I see something different. His aura is bright and strong and the energy he is giving out is enough to create an unseen force of tension.
“Hey, What do you want?” He asks. He noticed I was far off. I want to tell him the truth but if I do he will know too much. He will know that all I really want at that moment is for him to push me up against a wall. I want him to look into my eyes and I want to look deep into his soul. For just this moment I do not want to find affection and care. Right this moment I want to find raw, unrefined passion in his soul. I want him to loose control to me for just five minutes.
He needs to flip that switch and make me feel like I am what he has always wanted even if only for Five minutes. I can picture those hands tracing along my body like Picasso on his canvas. I can taste his skin aching for me like an addict struggling with withdrawal syndrome. I can feel his eyes undress me so patiently and sense the energy and excitement when he thinks I am a goddess.
As requested earlier, I pardoned myself because this is a special situation. Because here is a man who makes me get the self control of a two year old who needs to pee.A man that teases me out of breathe. One I can’t have because of my principles but one that makes me reconsider every single belief I’ve ever had.