For two days now, you have cornered me, teased me, caressed me...and then left me...left me wanting, wet and breathless.
I cannot help but consider your actions to be calculating - an effort to mold my desires and control them.
You are masterful, and as you make this your focus, as in all your endeavors, I have no doubt that you will be able to command my lust as if it were a marionette waiting to be picked up and set to motion.
I balk at your displays of dominance...not because I do not crave them, but because I am not used to them. Ever the respectful lover, you have rarely taken what was not offered plainly and openly. But, with trepidation, I urge you to continue. Make me yours. With love and patience, wrap me around your fingers and pull me to you...hold me there...long enough to prove you could hold me forever if you so desired.
Take. Take what you want...as you did today when you slipped your finger between my nether lips and circled the bud until it hardened - and then left the room to dress for work. I hadn't even opened my eyes, soap and water running down my face, depriving me of one sense so that I might utterly engage myself with another. Take what you want...as you did when you placed your heated palm between my legs and kissed me goodbye, your other hand cupping my breast until my erect nipple proved you had accomplished your task - to leave me unsatisfied and begging for more.
I will have no other choice, in your unfortunate absence, than to pleasure myself tonight. And as I slip the vibrator into its designated envelope of flesh, I will conjure the image of your body above me, riding me hard, with power and intent.
The quality I find most undeniable in a man is the knowledge that he could hurt me, crush me, destroy me utterly, but chooses not to because he loves me, desires me, and could not exist without me.
It is a tenuous existence. A slightly dangerous kind of love. A kind of entrapment that ensures I will be...