Let’s pretend, just pretend, that I do anything other than dream — both night and day — about fucking you. Let’s not talk about the fact that I spend so much of my time unable to do anything other than touch myself just thinking about you. And we’re not going to acknowledge that those few briefs moments have been seared into my brain so indelibly that I couldn’t wash it away even if I wanted to.
I’m not going to tell you how much I want it, you. I’m not going to lay it out on the table, but we’ll both know it’s there anyway. It might be plain as day that even thinking of your name sends me to an insatiable state, but I know you know anyway.
We’ll just ignore the fact that I’m masturbating for you again, that the thought of you is only ever a heartbeat away. Tonight’s topic of discussion isn’t going to be how you send me over the edge every day without even knowing it.
You don’t need to hear the words coming out of my lips, nor is it necessary for you to see the words on your screen. Save your flattery and your compliments. I don’t care if you can’t forget about me. I can’t think about you thinking about me because, then, I’ll never get your out of my head.
Because, for just a little bit, I need to maintain my power, my dignity, my stance. I need to pretend that I don’t know that you already know. And as we’re pretending that we don’t know what’s coming, it will be electrifying when it finally comes.
So well written, I’ve read this a couple of times. I take a little something more away from it each time, it’s one of my favorite posts I’ve read relating to ‘relationships’.