|
Shapes move and flutter, more felt than seen. I feel eyes
upon me, watching me, baring my soul to the scrutiny of an impenetrable stare, an unknowable appetite. These eyes see into
my core, my secrets stand starkly bare before his vision. Hands reach for me, caress me, own me. I am played like an instrument,
every note, every sigh torn from me; I can hold nothing back. I am at the mercy of these teasing hands, pinned in place by
his eyes. I cannot reach him, I am barred entrance, yet all of me is exposed to him: all desires, all fears.
He uses
this knowledge, pushing me further, reaching into me and touching all. The cat with a mouse: my heart pounds in my ears, my
breath ragged and shallow. He brings me to the edge only to deny me again and again. With another this would frustrate me,
stopping my pleasure; he knows me too well, he knows how to use me.
My pleasure comes when he wills--I swell and explode, shattering
into fragments. A small smile plays upon his lips and my will is lost. |
