Walking past your desk, my body reacts to the rich timbre of your voice.
As always, I’m impressed by the way you handle yourself.
Polite, yet strong. Commanding yet respectful. Your manners match the exquisite cut of your suit—irresistible.
I’m made weak by your smile, the light in your eyes, the way you nod as I pass by.
You’ve often said that I’m the best friend a guy could have, but I’d prefer to be sinfully yours.
You wink at me, and jokingly tap my ass. If I could be honest, I’d ask for a spanking with me arranged across your lap. You look like the kind of man who could deliver pain in the most delightful way.
But you’ll never know what I dream of, because our friendship stands in the way. You’re always the gentleman, and that, my sweet, makes me so very hot.
You’re playful at our business lunch. Sharing your food, your fork to my lips, you tell me that what you’re letting me taste will be an orgasm for my mouth.
I thank you for sharing, but imagine myself on my knees, the orgasm yours.
You delight me with conversations and trips to the museum. We never run out of things to say; indeed, we have greeted the morning sun together countless times. But never in your bed, which is where I long to crawl to, with your nakedness as my reward.
Evenings spent in your apartment listening to Bach, with you sprawled on your sofa like some great lion, leave me wishing I was a hunted gazelle.
I would gladly let you catch me—let you strip me bare and bleed the last ounce of my surrendered devotion into your soul.
More naughtiness here…http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/10/id-rather-be-sinfully-yours-adult/