I don't know if you'll respond to this or even read it but the longing I feel has become to great to ignore. We've been innocently flirting back and forth for weeks now, the occasional innuendo, the excuses found to brush an open palm against one another and the lingering good-byes.
I'm captivated by the way your eyes see right through me and seem to whisper secrets to my soul. I'm haunted by the memory of your scent and every chaste touch we've shared is a sacred treasure that fills the emptiness of my heart with warmth. I know I'm a fool to have lost myself to the thought of you but your voice is a siren's song that has me drowning in a tidal wave of passion.
As I look out my window and see the fall of a Spring snowstorm, I'm inspired to believe in the unlikely. I let myself dream of you and imagine our anticipated union, visualizing my approach to give myself over to your mercy.
You accepted my invitation to dinner, perhaps a little curious about my invitation to cook for you. The sauteed vegetables were met with remarkable approval and you were impressed by my pasta and marinara sauce. The wine completed the candle light atmosphere as our usual playful banter is allowed a more heated tone.
Before I can tell you how much I've longed for this, you ask me why I've taken so long to act on any of our flirtations and I am forced to admit a level cautionary reluctance that I might scare you off with the full disclosure of my need. My words come freely now backed by a fire that reaches from my heart through my eyes to bathe you in the heat of my hunger.
Your eyes don't turn away but answer my gaze with the brilliance of starlight. I put down my glass and walk over to you, kneeling at your feet before you can rise from your chair. One hand rests on your shoulder as the other cups the side of your neck to draw you into my kiss.