Steve's My Man... Apparently
Steve sat in the middle of my bed, last night, wrapped up in my doona, he looked right at home. Smiling, relaxed, head cocked to one side.
He's asked me a couple of times, just lately, what is wrong, when, I guess, I have been looking at him too intently.
He runs his hand down my face and says, "Hey, what's with you?" Then he pulls his head back and pouts his lips and smiles, all at the same time.
"Oh, nothing," I hear myself say.
He tilts his head and touches my chin. "Sure? You seem..."
"What?" I ask.
"I don't know, different..."
"Nah," I say. I shrug. Somehow a shrug negates the lie. "I'm fine."
But, I'm not fine. Steve is cute, sexy, hot and I think I'm falling for him. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but, it has kind of sneaked up on me. I've always liked them dark and cute, of course Steve is dark, all Thai boys are.
And before you ask, no, it's not true. It’s a good size, thick, quite beautiful, really. Heavy, like I've never known on another guy. It gets hard as steal.
Steve is solid, strong in personality. He knows what he wants, seems so able to get it too. He's funny and smart. And handsome, of course. He has beautiful eyes, dark brown, captivating, gentle and strong.
I had my chance, I know. I've had many chances, lots of time to get with him. But, I never did, we never did. Always friends with benefits. Always casual. And then we were nothing for so many years.
I can always depend on you, he says, his skin a glow with sweat, his face flushed red, as he pulls the sheets over him and snuggles into me.
“I’ve got to go,” he’ll say. “Back to my life.”
I find don’t want him to go, just lately.
He makes me laugh, I once told him that I find Asian boys with Aussie accents hot, that’s why I like him.
“I’m second generation, mate,” says Steve. “What are you?”
“I’m second generation too, English,” I say. “See we’re made for each other.”
He called me this morning, from the office.
“I dumped your load in my jocks, halfway home,” he says. “I thought it was just a fart.”
“Really?” I say. “Sorry.”
“It turned me on, if I’m honest,” says Steve. Big grin. “I was in a four seat, on the tram, with three straight guys discussing footy... and blurp! I laughed and the three guys looked at me, which only made me grin even wider.”
So, why now, after so many years am I suddenly looking at him in this way?
If it keeps going this way, I guess, I’m going to have to think relationship. Not the R word. The fucken R word. OMG! That’s my mission if I chose to accept it.
Secretly, it makes me feel good.
He's asked me a couple of times, just lately, what is wrong, when, I guess, I have been looking at him too intently.
He runs his hand down my face and says, "Hey, what's with you?" Then he pulls his head back and pouts his lips and smiles, all at the same time.
"Oh, nothing," I hear myself say.
He tilts his head and touches my chin. "Sure? You seem..."
"What?" I ask.
"I don't know, different..."
"Nah," I say. I shrug. Somehow a shrug negates the lie. "I'm fine."
But, I'm not fine. Steve is cute, sexy, hot and I think I'm falling for him. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but, it has kind of sneaked up on me. I've always liked them dark and cute, of course Steve is dark, all Thai boys are.
And before you ask, no, it's not true. It’s a good size, thick, quite beautiful, really. Heavy, like I've never known on another guy. It gets hard as steal.
Steve is solid, strong in personality. He knows what he wants, seems so able to get it too. He's funny and smart. And handsome, of course. He has beautiful eyes, dark brown, captivating, gentle and strong.
I had my chance, I know. I've had many chances, lots of time to get with him. But, I never did, we never did. Always friends with benefits. Always casual. And then we were nothing for so many years.
I can always depend on you, he says, his skin a glow with sweat, his face flushed red, as he pulls the sheets over him and snuggles into me.
“I’ve got to go,” he’ll say. “Back to my life.”
I find don’t want him to go, just lately.
He makes me laugh, I once told him that I find Asian boys with Aussie accents hot, that’s why I like him.
“I’m second generation, mate,” says Steve. “What are you?”
“I’m second generation too, English,” I say. “See we’re made for each other.”
He called me this morning, from the office.
“I dumped your load in my jocks, halfway home,” he says. “I thought it was just a fart.”
“Really?” I say. “Sorry.”
“It turned me on, if I’m honest,” says Steve. Big grin. “I was in a four seat, on the tram, with three straight guys discussing footy... and blurp! I laughed and the three guys looked at me, which only made me grin even wider.”
So, why now, after so many years am I suddenly looking at him in this way?
If it keeps going this way, I guess, I’m going to have to think relationship. Not the R word. The fucken R word. OMG! That’s my mission if I chose to accept it.
Secretly, it makes me feel good.
Comments
Post a Comment