The instruments are dead to me. Your song has brought me to you, and now you will pay.You feel me watching you long before you see me. You look around... trying to find the source of your sudden breathlessness. Your body has reacted to my presence, my calling. Your heart responds to me, our pulses synchronizing, beating in time with the beat of the music that moves you. I order a glass of wine and press a $20 bill in the waitress' hand, with instructions to bring you to me when your set is. ’ Another kiss, a little more lingering, ‘And then, maybe, if I really like what I see, I’ll let you.’ His hand drops from my face and he returns his attention to his cooking, I can practically hear his grin. He loves to torture me like this. Once when he had to work from home, he made me sit on his desk next to his computer and pleasure myself all day while he typed emails and managed spread sheets. He barely seemed to look at me, but it I stopped for a moment he’d seem to know immediately.. More

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