When you Look at Me that Way

When you look at me like that, I don't know what to do. It's too stimulating, too exciting.

For such a shy man, it's such a bold act, the way you stare. Audacious. It makes me admire you. Makes me think you're a surprise. And I like surprises.

I try to maintain eye contact with you for as long as possible. But it's so hard. Your stare is intense, overt, sexual. I can only take so much of that laser-focused attention before bashfully averting my eyes. I want to stare back at you longer because I know, I know, it's like fucking you, maybe more.

Do you like it when I look away? Do you realize the effect your eyes have on me and relish in the power? I submit to you when I look away. I surrender. Do you like that?

I can't help but wonder how this electricity between us would translate sexually. I'm sure you wonder the same thing. (We wonder a lot about having sex with one another, I have a feeling.)

Until then, the pressure continues to build.

Perhaps that tension will become too much to take. This attraction needs to manifest itself physically, doesn't it? Its a protracted tease and I feel myself getting weak, dire for more. Or so frustrated, I could scream.

But we can't. We can't follow through on it for a number of banal reasons.

And sometimes I think I'm okay with that. Because the feeling in those fleeting seconds when our eyes meet, it's almost beyond sex. It's human electricity. High voltage. A very magical, deeply sexual sensation that stops my breath.

Thank you for that. Thank you for looking my way.