NOWYou remind me of that thirst, that never quenched desire to feel satiated, but never quite getting there. I'm always wanting more of you, never feeling like I've had enough. It started with that first hug. No, that's a lie. It started that first time I saw you sitting across the room from me. I was preoccupied, true, but something about your face, or maybe it was your body. No! It was your soul! Your soul called out to mine, in that dark, noise-filled, crowded room. I looked at you many times that first night, and every time I looked up and away from my project, I saw you. Watching, seeking... sitting there in stony silence. Calling me. Like a silent scream, one could not hear it, but could feel it in their bones.
The more I learned about you, the unknown man, the more I thought to myself, "No, no, NO! This will NOT work! It cannot work! It is impossible!" But Fate does not know the word "Impossible," You can be dragged, kicking and screaming and denying, while Fate says simply "Yes. Yes, this will work. This will be." And it is! It was that way with you. I was alternately compelled and repulsed. Compelled, because you silently called out to me. Repulsed, because of the knowledge I had of you, of your habits, I saw your home weeks before I ever entered, I knew what to expect, and, yet, in spite of all I knew, all I saw, I fought the feelings of no, and accepted Fate's yes.
That first hug, a few weeks after the first time your soul cried out to me, sealed it. You smelled of sweetness, of candy, of strongly brewed coffee. All the things I liked, all the things I loved. How could I possibly refuse you? Six weeks later, you were bent over, nearly naked, laying over a spanking bench as I repeatedly used my heaviest paddle on your ivory skin. You were silent, but your body language, the wiggling and pressing up against me, made me realize that, yes, you were what I desired. You were what I thirsted for. Even as I broke my finger, and explained what happened, your laugh was rich and full, and as I got closer, the smell of sweetness, candy, and strongly brewed coffee was there. Why I fought it, I don't know. Two weeks later, in your home, which was exactly what I saw in my mind's eye, I still thirsted for you. Yes, there was fear and apprehension, like the fear we all get when doing something new, but I knew you would never hurt me.
Two weeks after that, as the thirst became more than I could resist, we both realized it was no longer in our hands. I had the overwhelming thirst, the overwhelming desire that only you could quench, and, yet, the more I got, the more I wanted. Being that vulnerable was new to me. Never realizing that it was to become an obsession on your part as well only increased the effect. The thirst was out of control, much like the thirst in my introduction.
At times, I feel like nobody could possibly comprehend it, because, even though it is here and now, it is an unbelievable story we are living. One that, if told to either of us as recently as 20 months ago, both of us would have been incredulous and denying it, as if it were a fairytale. Who knew that a thirst could be so strong and overpowering?
I'm open and vulnerable with my thirst, and you have learned that only you can begin to quench it. It's not such a bad thing, is it? Unlike the thirst in the introduction, this is not so miserable. It makes sense. There is no denial of my desires, of my needs, and you have your desires met as well. All is good. And you still smell of candy and sweetness. Last night only confirmed it. I'm so glad my thirst is for you, and I neither hide or deny it. Knowing you understand and believe makes it so much sweeter.