Nothing compares to the feeling of how she enters a room and there is an instant cold, sweat beading over the goose bumps on your flesh. The intensity of her presence, causing a rise to more than just your pulse. The humbling pressure on every part of you, bringing a shortness of breath that reminds you of everything good in life.
Watching her is as taboo as the sheer existence of the throbbing between your thighs in the lazy corner cafe on Decatur. The breeze from the open french doors snapping you back to the present moment, while also breathing life into her loose strands of hair. A sharp tingle running down your spine as her floral musky scent wafts past you. You find yourself fighting the intense urge to lift slightly out of your seat to chase the scent across the room. You already feel a loyalty to her presence. A sense that your spirit must be near her's.
Casting your eyes over her figure is an undeniable delicacy that only the worthy have glimpsed.
She is watching me
Cutting your eyes downward quickly, you catch a mirror reflecting her eyes piercing your every atom. A mistake only an idiot would make. A mistake only a weak man would make.
The slow clicking of her heels on the small hexagon shaped tiles grows louder as their red points peek into the upper left corner of your vision.
You know she is directly above you, but your mind is swimming in the thoughts she inspires. The small seed planted in your mind, of the floor being naked men she digs her stiletto heels into with every step, hearing their breath leave their lungs as they are pierced by not only her heel, but her body occupying the same space as theirs. How you feel jealous of the floor for the first time in your life. How you lean forward more and more to align yourself with where you wish to be.
Helloo There.
Your spine snapping straight without your consent leaves you dizzy from whiplash, causing your vision to see two of the Goddess before your eyes. It starts to slowly register that she has let beautiful words fall from her mouth aimed at you.
Hel-lel-owo Miss.
You have seemingly lost the ability to speak and -simultaneously- hear. Your ears are filled with a high pitched ringing you can not identify but could be the sound of your brain slowly melting to a slush.
Smirking in a way that causes leakage from the annoyance warming the center of your chair, she graces you with her presence by sitting at the table across from you.
How have you found yourself hard, yet weak in the knees? Throbbing with anticipation but only bothered by the existence of your own selfish wants?