Prey

I watched him walk across the room in the mirror's reflection, freezing up like a shy little school girl when he stopped behind me. Our brief exchange of words was short and generic. Over the next hour, I found my eyes always wandering in his direction, feeling pangs of jealousy when he would speak to other blondes.

Finally, I became the center of his attention. He approached me with an aggressive charisma that you only imagine Mick Jagger could pull off. For the next hour, I was putty in his hands. He had complete control of my body and mind. My head was spinning and I tried not to let him catch me staring at him. My eyes drank in all of the little details; his hand distressed Levis that hung on his hips just low enough for me to see the outline of his amazing abs. His body was like a chiseled rock from head to toe. The outline of his chest, shoulders, and bulging biceps could not be covered by his perfectly torn, worn in white cotton t-shirt. I traced the faint outlines of the hibiscus tattoos that would eventually become a colorful sleeve, seriously hot! His face was sweet, intense, and aged in a sexy way like a Clint Eastwood character in some cowboy movie. His shoes were expensive, as well as the masculine chain with amethyst pendant that dangled in front of me like a carrot. He had style, charm, and a body to back it all up.

His crystal light blue eyes pierced me with his intense, sometimes icy stare. He started to tease me with his body in unpredictable movements. At times he would be straddling my legs, his crotch just hovering above my right knee, other times he would gently grab my face and turn me in whichever direction pleased him most. He would run his hands through my hair, with a gentle yet powerful motion. He stood in front of me, in a strong straddled position, grabbed my face with one hand as the other ran through my hair and ended pressing against my breast and resting for a moment. The passion and focus behind his eyes and movements intimidated me. The few words I did manage to speak became an immediate unspoken understanding. We were strangers, but in sync with our desires.

As he finished, he turned to me eagerly seeking my approval. We exchanged a slight smile and decided to go our separate ways. I watched as he packed up his Louis Vuitton tote and as I turned to walk away he said "it was a pleasure to meet you". Then he put on his RayBan's and walked out the door.

He was like the man I have been waiting four years to meet in New York City, but I had to remind myself that it was and will always be just a crush. You see, my orgasmic moment was all in my head and my new found love interest is my new gay hairstylist at John Frieda. At least I walked away with beautiful hair which is more satisfaction than most men have given me in this town.

*Aries*