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irresistible -> Too damn long (4/15/2006 10:31:22 AM)
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Introduce myself?
You already know who I am.
I’m the guy you see going to work everyday; dressed nice, smells nice, washed car, and always friendly.
I’m the guy who works later than you because he’s ambitious and almost never complains about it while everyone around him does.
I’m the guy you see at the gym who keeps to himself and is focused on his workout.
I’m the guy you see at the market who eats fresh healthy food, but has a few chocolate goodies in the basket.
I’m the guy you’d never suspect. I’m the guy who has a nice voice and nice hair, who’ll hold the door for you and not use that as an excuse to talk to you.
You see me with girls but you rarely see the same girl twice. You wonder if I’m gay and decide that I don’t dress nice enough to be gay. You wonder if I’m a smut with all the women all the time. Could be? Maybe I’m not what they want. Maybe they’re not what I want.
I’m the guy who makes you think. Especially about me. Not just when you see me, but even when you don’t. You wonder if I’m working late and you find yourself looking for my car. You wonder if I’m on a date and if I’ll settle down with this one.
You try to figure out what kind of girls I like, but the ones you see have nothing in common. Some are tall, some are short, most are thick, but some are thin. Some are white and some are black, some are Asian and some are Latino you think. Some look really young, but some look older than both of us, but they still look good for their age.
So what is it? What do I like? What do I want? What am I looking for? Whatever it is it can’t be seen. It’s something inside. Something like conversation or spirituality.
Maybe it’s sex, but maybe it’s just chemistry. Some are really pretty and that makes you think that I go for looks alone, but some are pretty nasty to you so maybe I’m not superficial.
You see me with my luggage. I travel quite a bit. You wonder how much is for work and how much is for pleasure. You see those plain packages I get, at work and at home. You wonder what’s in those. What secret has only an address and no company logo?
Maybe you’ve seen me make out in the parking lot. I have no shame.
Maybe you’ve seen me freakin on the hood of a car on the side of the road at night.
Maybe you were in the movie theatre when I got ejected for bumpin and grindin in the back corner.
Maybe you were in the restaurant when someone caught me with a woman in the men’s room.
Maybe that’s all just your imagination.
I don’t seem the type, but then again they say it’s always the quiet ones.
My windows are open but my shades are closed if you know what I mean.
It is what’s inside that counts and inside I’m exactly what you need. Behind closed doors you can be yourself. When no one else is around you can let your hair down. Where no one can see is your sanctuary from judgment.
You are safe with me, but I seem so trustworthy you’re looking for doubt.
I look so innocent sometimes you let your guard down and then get scared when you realize it’s down.
My college boy face disarms you and lulls you.
I’m straightforward and honest in a way that makes you nervous.
Sure we can talk about sex, if you want, but it’ll be like talking about American Idol. To me it’s not taboo or something you need to whisper.
I can talk about anything and you like listening to me, so where’s the catch.
Is this the guy you’re seeking on-line? How could you know? I’m a mystery. Not on purpose, but you wonder all the time about me no matter how long you know me. There is a lot to know.
You want someone to satisfy your desires. Your fetishes are too big to keep inside, like the scream at the top of a roller coaster plunge. Your fantasies are getting crowded in your head and they need to be set free. Sure you could buy toys and DVDs, but they only make the tingling worse. The connection you crave comes from a simple touch, but the touch is rough and constant like the ache between your legs.
You play on line, but maybe it’s time to stop playing. To be truly happy you have to be honest with yourself. You’ll never find who you’re looking for if you’re not honest. Do you need to be spanked? It doesn’t make you a bad person. Some will call you a slut for your yearning. FUCK THEM! They’re not paying your bills or scratching your itch, and they’re probably in the closet just like you used to be before you got real.
Do you need control? Do you need discipline? They are two very different things. Do you like pain with your pleasure, or does pain itself bring you pleasure? Does the lifestyle attract you? All that latex and rubber, the see through costumes and the chains, the whips and paddles and wicked looking toys, the candles and clamps, and just being exposed and laid bare before someone who’ll make you want to be vulnerable again and again. Someone who’ll hurt you, but never harm you. They are two very different things as well. The butterflies in your stomach are happy and you should be too.
But this isn’t about you.
This is about me.
Right?
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