His face, his body, his voice have captured her imagination with a dizzying speed. As his piercing gaze flashes through her mind, as the deep accented drawl echoes in her ears, as he courses and flows through her slight form, she wonders about the man a world away from her own and the compelling lure of him.

She wonders about his hands, their touch, the scent of his skin, his expected force and his astonishing sensuality, his energy and stillness, his heat, his physicality, the view of his overwhelming frame looming over her.

And as she allows her mind to wander and meander along his body magnetic, she slavishly follows, her own scorched, electrified flesh achingly reaching out for one more rapturous union.

In the end, there seems to be nothing but a whisper separating us all. Difference, otherness, foreignness seem to be nothing but fast crumbling notions from a history long past.

In the end, we all seem to want and long and yearn for the very same things, need the very same things. No matter our time or place. From the mind, from the spirit, from the body.

Passion. Pleasure. Acknowledgement. Wisdom. Connection. Independence. Knowledge. Mystery. Discovery. Submission. Domination. Control. Freedom. Wonder. Bliss.

Desire. Desire. Desire.

And Love.

Darkness and light.
The shades of grey in between.
Sultry poetry and gruff demands.
Delicate touch, bruising possession.
Primal desire and tender caring.
Electric exploration, engulfing recognition.
Sexual and sensual, artistic and intellectual.
Man, woman, singularity, multiplicity.

The breathtaking possibility.

It is a body that wants, a lust that gnaws, a desire that eats away at the fabric of her everyday, a carnality that overtakes her in shattering waves, dizzying her mind, dissolving her boundaries. No matter how much or little it receives.

In the light of day, in the dark of night, it incessantly reaches out for more, hungry for masculine flesh new and familiar, ravenous for the manly exotic in its infinite variety, famished for domination and possession, starved for submission and surrender, longing for words and deeds and lips and hands and cocks and come.

The body, this body, her body.

This body that is mine.

You are my hungry want incarnate
My need made flesh and blood
My carnality made juices, sweat and come

When my eyes sweep down along you
Imposing, muscular and strong
I see a man aching to release, submit, surrender

Intoxicating at close distance
Your scent a heady, lethal mix
Compels mind and body to thoughts primal and impure

Take, possess, command you
My slut, my toy, my whore
I will use you and exploit you for my pleasure

Strap you roughly, bind you crudely
To the base of the platinum bed
My body looming in tall spikes of shiny leather

Body splayed wide open
I will tease and taunt and feel
The arousal as it screams up from your core

Spend and mark and bruise you
My own cunt slave you will be
Here and now and forever more

Each glimpse of him is a breathless revelation. Each view an assault on her raw inarticulate passion. Each moment he is before her, she can not resist the lure of his perfection. She can not help but drink him in, sink into him, submerge herself completely in him.

And wonder.

About his touch, his scent, the softness of his lips. The strength of his arms, the flavour of his skin, the view of his nakedness walking toward her. The familiar yet distinct way her body will open, surrender and bruise as he savagely fucks her from behind with his diamond-hard shaft.

I wanted it all.

The possibility, the promise, the risk.
The pleasure, the pain, the complexity.
The body of strength, of weakness, of beauty exotic.
The sweet laughter, the scars, the luminous soul.
The fucking, the sex, the making of love.
The cuts, the bruises, the soothing hereafter.
The light-hearted banter, the debates deep and raging.
The words, the silence, the sound of him coming.
The man, the master, the lover, the whore.
The wordsmith, the artist, the poet.

I wanted it all.
I want it all still.

But it can no longer be.

And so the want is left achingly wanting.
Until it fades out of mind, out of body, out of sight.

Stand over me, lean over me, tall, commanding and strong
Your body ready for the pleasures here awaiting

Look at me, gaze at me, your eyes sweeping over me
Caressing curves with passion from afar

See me, see into me, map the surface, chart the depths
As no man has ever dared or ever done

Feel me, touch me, stroke the body bathing in the glow
The body reaching out for you and you alone

Hold me, commune with me, merge your rapture and your pain
Be unafraid to bare, unmask, expose

Drive into me, sink into me, drown me in your flood
Plunge into a moment brief that lingers on

The hour of their call meant she was somewhere between sleep and consciousness, defences low, mouth spilling forth the uncensored thoughts and sensations of body and mind.

In the warm rumpled bed with the phone cradled next to her ear, she revealed herself to him in the way she only could when immersed in the midnight dark as his voice and laughter and the intimate details of his life wove their way into her very core.

But now she worries she has bared too much, too much of herself, her insecurities, too much of the desire he ignites in her and the attachment she is beginning to feel after so short a time.

And so her stomach churns and head vertiginously spins as she wakes quietly weeping, fearful of the vulnerable openness he has inspired, fearful he no longer cares for the view from here.

She stares for an age at the screen, barely able to see through the passion blurring her vision, barely able to comprehend the desire she provokes in such a man.

Yet, the proof is there before her. The proof of his desperation, his yearning, the ache that crawls under his skin.

She blinks over and again, her chest rapidly rising and falling, her breath catching in her throat, her slick cunt slamming against the denim between her legs.

And although she realises the gesture an imitation, she too cannot control the impulse to merge her flesh with his, to extend her touch to the electronic body, caressing the large, strong hand reaching out in a futile attempt to feel her own absent form.