7:03 p.m. - 2013-05-01
Sir
It's driving me crazy (in the most enjoyable way), trying to figure out if Sir knows what he's doing to me.
He must.
He has to.
How could he not?
This is torture.
I love it.
I don't even want to ask him.
I think that knowing would ruin it. Some of it, at least.
Not know, but just guessing, just wondering, keeps things electric, and also simpler.
So. Much. Simpler.
Plausible deniability for us both, you see.
We can't ... anything.
We can't.
We can want it, we can enjoy it, we can dance around it, but we can't actually anything.
We can't even talk about it.
This is potent, and wise, and also a fun sort of sexy.
Being patient is a new thing for me.
