A Sexual Fantasy
Its a classic. I was 18 when I met him. He was 42. He wasn't a bad man.
He was so into me. I'd never experienced anything like it. I thought it was love. Maybe it was. I don't know.
He would touch me like I was the most precious diamond in the world. Yet right behind his careful hands - as if I was looking through a veil - I could feel the raging flames of his desire.
I remember the first time we had sex. He kept saying how right it felt. It was such a big turn on for me to be with a man so much older than me, so I thought that meant I was in love. Maybe I was. I don't know.
He took care of me. He was a double capricorn. We went on secret getaways. He helped me get away from my abusive family. He was safe, strong and secure. And he fucked me. And told me he loved me.
It was a very painful breakup and it took many years to go through and to get over.
Because of it however, I'm now an independent young woman with an unstoppable inner strength. I can do anything I want, and I don't need anyone to take care of me.
Then at night when I'm alone I must confess that the one thing I fantasize about, is him taking care of me. Touching me. Fucking me. While telling me that he loves his little baby girl.
I can't let it go.