Have I awakened from twisted dreams, or have they become the reality I battle everyday? He held me down last night. Forceful and unrelenting. Did he expect a struggle? No, he wasn't even aware of what he was doing, because I have created it all. Every scene, every touch, every thought.
He is unworldly and childlike, his actions pure and virtuous. And yet he has been my undoing. I wanted him long before he came to me in my dreams, and he still doesn't know. Naive to the effect his words have upon me, he speaks freely and without pretension. I am smitten and he is blissful. The way it will have to be.
He casts his spell upon me with ease, his emotions slicing through my frail reserve like razor sharp glass. My fantasies bleed out before him, and he is fulfilled beyond his own imagination. I will have him every night. Any way that I choose. I have no defenses left, he has inadvertently broken me and made me revel in my own savage hunger. And yet still I crave more. What is it about him that I cannot deny? Will not deny. He is a quenchless thirst that leaves me aching every morning for his nightly returns. And he is sleeping the sleep of the innocent.
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