The Warming Of Night

I want him. I want him to make love to me. I've never felt the burn that is sin and desire like I have for him. He haunts my ever wakening, my slumber too. I find lips pursed, breast tender, and body, alert and in waiting. The thought of his touch arouses me. And his words; paradise. What have I done to deserve such temptation, such beguile and uninhibited desire. Want. Need. I need to feel him. In so many more ways then sexual. I need him to slide his hands beneath my dress, for him to feel the heat of my thigh, the wanting. I need him to press himself against me and breath-- heavily, slowly on the nape of my neck. I want to feel his body --his warmth. I want to feel him. His entirety, his soul.

But maybe She is right. Maybe I am in love with the idea, more than the man. Can you imagine? So many years. So many desires. So much waiting. Can you imagine What would happen if I gave him that keys? If I closed my eyes and let him drive. All he needs is an okay, a signal, a sign. All he needs is for me to let him come into me, In every way a man, can come into a woman. In parts, in whole. In spirit and in mind. All that is stopping him is me. And I want him so badly. Why do I stop him?

Have I forgotten the years past? The ones involving dangerously alluring eyes and lustful thoughts. His words. I dare not speak what my tongue did seek in fear of the retribution that would follow.....And he-- I don't deserve him. He that is noble to me, and my love. But... the other, his hands are strong and rough from his trade, from his manhood. And I, as soft as a lily floats, lay, as always, in open and waiting for a time where that heat-- that fire-- that passion will melt all walls between us and create, bore, that of what a phoenix is made. That scorching of inhibition.

My only regret is not tempting him as he does me. Giving him my full attention, ruining any of his efforts to be good, to be wholesome, to be pure. That and my secret desire, my deliciously private.... one, that would involve, my complete destruction, his complete being. My full attention, his absolute enduring....my God and my everything. His eyes and words and mouth and touch....stalking my every waking, yet desolate hours.

I am a fool for him; and forever will be.