My bizarre secret life (_ghostfire_) wrote in pervaciousness,
My bizarre secret life
_ghostfire_
pervaciousness

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Anyone out there???

Well, it seems that no one has posted to this community for awhile... but I thought I'd post something, whether or not anyone out there even reads it, just to get it out *somewhere*... see, I have this intensely lustful crush on my coworker, who as far as I can tell doesn't have the slightest clue about it! So, I wrote this little thing the other night, and this seemed the appropriate forum for it.

It's a little crude (as in unrefined and unfinished), perhaps, but then I never claimed to be much of a writer. *ahem*

I watch you all the time at work, I just can’t help it. I can’t keep my eyes off you most of the time, mostly your gorgeous, long, curly hair. I constantly imagine you with it down, instead of in a ponytail, how absolutely hot you look that way. I imagine myself running my fingers through it gently, feeling its softness, watching the look on your face as you enjoy my affectionate stroking. I watch your hands when you work near me, and imagine them running gently up and down and all over the curves of my body... I imagine how they would feel against my skin, or my face, or intertwined in my hair. I wonder how well your hands would fit into mine. I admire the shape of your arms and your legs, large and muscular and surprisingly well defined for your generally soft shape. I think of this and remember how a few months ago I never would have imagined I would find you so unbelievably attractive today. When you walk past me, I breathe deeply of your scent and imagine myself caught up in a cloud of it for hours on end, breathing it even more deeply as I bury my face in your clothes, and eventually, your skin. When we speak, I listen to every undertone of your voice, trying to imagine how it would sound if you were whispering lustfully into my ear or moaning my name in bliss. When I meet your eyes, your lovely deep brown eyes, I catch my breath, wishing I could see them, unobstructed by your glasses, gazing back at me from mere inches away. And then I picture you slowly closing your eyes as you draw nearer to kiss me... I imagine these things over and over, and they only make me want you more and more each day.
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I wish that it could be about me.