The sight of your name makes my pulse race. The sound of your voice sends blood rushing to my cheeks. The thought of your touch almost makes me faint. To have your hands run through my hair, your voice whisper in my ear, kisses from your lips upon my sweet neck would be devine. You say such things to me, we set up days to meet, but, so far, nothing has left the corridors of our imaginations. You tease me much, and I tease you back, you're better at it though. I think somewhere along the way I've fallen hard for you. I wish I hadn't, in a way, because I doubt you've fallen for me.
K. Tone 9-23-99
