God, I have such a crush on you. Day and night, I think only of you. The way you look at me, your eyes, how they wander over my body and hold me, Hold me in your gaze. Your gaze wonders. I can tell. It wonders,

who is this woman who can challenge me, who can make me think only of her. Who is she? She can keep me wanting

any other. When I think about you, I think of how it would feel to kiss you, kiss you,

hungrily, hold back a little until you want to meet my lips fervently, passionately, but I pull back.

And I imagine you'd grab me with your strong arms staring at me with those eyes and

mash your lips against mine. Taste my tongue with your tongue. Taste my mouth with

your mouth. I'd bite your neck. Smell your neck. Let my tongue run down the length of

your neck, your ears, your beautiful chest. I've never seen you without a shirt on but I can imagine how you'd look with your muscles.

I wonder if you have hair in your chest or not. You probably wonder what my breasts look like if I have large nipples or small.

I've caught you looking, but only briefly.

You probably wish you could look at my breasts, take them in your mouth, lingering on the curve of them,

like my arms, teasing me, giving me goosebumps

until you covered my nipples with your mouth,

running over the flesh with your tongue until they grew with pleasure

until I was aroused to the point of ecstasy, until my back arched so that you could take even

more of my nipple in your hot mouth, your passionate mouth, until you felt

such control over bringing me closer to satisfaction.

It's control, isn't it?

You want to control me, to please me, so that I want only you, can think about

only you. I'd lick your throat, move down your chest to your abdomen, your belly, my tongue slowly lapping up your skin,

smelling you, taking you in completely.

You'd close your eyes, not believing it was really real real not believing how much you wanted me

...