As I watched him leave, I tried to get back to work but it was hopeless. I felt stunned by his abrupt exit yet extremely aroused to have been used as his toy, a toy he could take or leave at any moment.
I replayed the scene in my head over and over. He was all I could think about. I was completely enamored. This man who was nearly 30 years my senior was absolutely the sexiest man I had ever known. It was more than his statuesque physique, mischievous smile and earnest gaze. He was sensual, creative and kind, with decades of experience under his belt giving him the quiet confidence a younger man could never have.
His enigmatic nature intrigued me. I wanted to know more about him and how to please him. I admired his intelligence and his accomplishments. His stature made me weak in the knees while being near him could easily bring me to my knees. This I knew and on my knees before him was where I wanted to be.
All of this gave him great power over me, power I wanted him to have.
I wanted him in every way imaginable, with every fiber of my being. I wanted him to take what I was offering and demand even more of me than I could think to give.
I was consumed.