We both know that today is my day. You have bestowed your grace upon me, the grace that a true lady only, can bestow. You have granted me my wish and you have done so with devotion, with care, with affection. Nothing I desire, neither my lust nor my perversion, is subject to judgment by you, for you understand me. You understand my needs, my inclinations, my demands.
It has taken many years to find you. I thought I had in fact found you, many times, only to be disappointed. Let down by my own fear to act, or by a person who was not you, who proved to be too weak, or too closed, or too opinionated. I had given up. My destiny, it seemed, could not hold the weight of my hopes and the volume of my wishes.
I had known you for so many years. I had known the electricity between us. Your boyish chest with your firm, small breasts. Your hard dark nipples. Your flat tummy. Your hairy bush. And those long legs of yours, legs I had felt beneath me, but only so briefly. But it was your mind that got me. Too young to understand, I became lost in doubt and confusion. I had imagined that the spark would not ignite, that the mind I knew deep down to be so sexually wicked, maybe was not.
I had convinced myself that you were a good girl and nothing else. That when we were alone in my car, and my cock was bursting in my jeans, you didn't want it, or me, or that dirty thing called sex. "No. I'm not interested" you would say, "but you can take it out and play with it yourself... if you want to."
I was too proud, too ordinary, too self-conscious. How many nights I bust a nut, whacking off to the thought of that moment, wishing I had taken you up, on your "impersonal" offer? How many times had I shot a load with your mocking smile imprinted on my mind?
