He hides among the shadows, watching me.
She could hear his footsteps. They were heavy and muffled but they were coming in her direction, closer and closer, until they stopped in front of her door.
I keep fantasizing about your hands gripping my thighs. Your hot breath on my ear. The indentation of your thick fingers on my thigh meat. The shadow your fingertips cast is as infinite as my desire. How your skin resists as I bite it through my pain. Your grip tightens as you push into me, the shadow of desire growing deeper. It’s slow and tentative at first, but it gets easier as I get wetter from arousal. Your breathing gets deeper while I hold mine as long as I can before gasping.
The first man I can remember being attracted to was Judd Nelson, and no, not his character from The Breakfast Club. That might have seemed more natural since I was only around ten at the time. I'd seen him in a late night movie and let's just say he was the 'bad guy'. He was also much older than me at the time, well he still is of course. But I was ten and he was in his thirties. You could argue that this was the first emergence of many issues to come for me regarding relationships and men.
The most heart-wrenching thing I've ever heard is "don't worry, you'll find someone." It's not the advice that's heart-wrenching, it's the fact that the person who told me this was that someone.