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When he comes, I am settled. He’s unhurried and sure. He’s kind and thoughtful. He won’t go first. That does put me in a powerful state- not over him or anyone, but within myself. I struggle to find patience, yet I’m finding it with him.
Did I feel irritation today? Was it me? Oh, he loves the attention, and how I love to shower him with it! I want to make him happy, to see his sexy smile. He returns that joy in spades. His very being turns me on.
I’m terrified to lay this thought down… if I keep it locked inside, I don’t ever have to be wrong. I don’t ever have to admit that I thought it. That thought is this: he’s as deep into us as I am. If I am wrong, then my discernment is screwy. If I am wrong, then my judgement needs to be re-calibrated. If I am wrong, then he is playing with me.
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This new thing… well, what can I say? Lovely. He says I look at him a certain way. I suppose I do. But I’m afraid of feeling this way.
You like it or you love it? I love it, I say. But I do not say what I want to say- that I am falling, maybe he’s not. He says he’s not. But his eyes say something different. He looks at me the same way. Maybe he is scared, too.
So, I will catch his forward movement, I think he wants me to. Did you tell him you are at your boyfriend’s? Why, yes. Yes, I did. Today, his question told me what I wanted to know.
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