Just this one time, I’ll tell you exactly what I want from you.
You asked me what I wanted. What I expected from you. As I’m mulling over the answer, I can’t believe you don’t know. Is it so obscure? Am I so complicated? Or can you simply not believe the answer you see before you?
No strings, no promises, no ties that bind. Chains, all of them. Heavy, daunting, suffocating. I, for one, cannot bare the weight. I’ve nothing to offer for more than today.
So, for this day, I’ll close my eyes and guide you.
I want to sit in a corner of the room and watch you advance, slowly, softly, your anticipation dragging your toes across the carpet. I want to see your desire for me smoldering in your eyes-a passion so thick, so palpable that it coats your eyelids like a blanket and holds them at half-mast.
I want to watch as your hands rise slowly while you drop to your knees before me.
Graze your fingertips lightly across my collarbone and down to my waist, whisper-touching across my torso along the way. When you drop your forehead to my lap, I will hold you. I will wrap my arms around your head, and lean into you, until my cheek rests in your hair.
If you were to peek at this moment, you may see a tear slip from my lashes and splash on your upturned cheek. But don’t peek. The tears are for me, and they’re not for today. They’ll keep.
Whisper softly to me. I want to hear your accent, hissing my name from between clenched teeth, as if you haven’t the strength to hold yourself away from me any longer.
Lean into me and say it again, beneath my ear, into my hair, hot and moist against my skin…
Then just this once, just this one time, I’ll ask you…
Will you do the damn dishes! How much do I have to do around here, for crying out loud! And do you think you could you take out the garbage? Huh? Just once, maybe?