There's definitely definitely no logic, to human behaviour....

The cause of yesterday's wet panties:

I can't even capture the feeling enough to put it into words. I'm half befuddled with tiredness, and I experienced the most electric chemistry of my life today, and all I can think about is going to the person that aroused it and running my mouth over their skin, rubbing with my lips and kissing, licking gently, worshipfully, shuddering with need while I do. I want to lay naked on my back before him, offering up my soft breasts and warm belly, whimpering and arching under his touch. I would do almost anything for this chemistry, and I think that's a dangerous thing for me.

All this ache and need from a few hours fully clothed with the aforementioned someone in a darkened cinema.

It started with his hand on my knee.

I felt the pressure of his fingers through the crinkled denim on my skin, stroking, smoothing, drawing little circles. He squeezed gently. He squeezed my flesh a lot in those few hours, in seemingly innocuous places but in ways that made a shiver run through me. I wouldn't let him touch my breasts or anywhere more private, I have little rules about these sorts of things- there's a progression, a timeline, a process.

I can't give a blow by blow description, my mind is too mixed up from it. He completely rolled me with his touch, and touching him touched something deep inside me. I took his first touch to be unspoken permission to touch him, and I struggled to leave him alone the entire time. Something about his presence, his smell, his touch, made me unequivocally his. He was so strong, so male, it made me weak with lust for him. I wouldn't have given it all yesterday, but I showed him with my fingers and my lips that he could have it all if he wanted, in time. I want him to want it, want me.

I was vulnerable to him, submissive in my exploration of his body, adoring and worshipping. I felt like I was worshipping him with my fingers and mouth. When I finally lowered my mouth to his skin, I kissed and licked and pressed my lips to him, feeling like I'd do anything he wanted for this pleasure to continue. The pleasure of touching him. The delight of touching someone I truly ached to touch.

Sometimes he's arrogant, and cold, which makes me even hotter for him- that I desire someone who doesn't treat me like a princess, that my body could so rule my mind as to ignore my usual standards of behaviour.

I was so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him, stroke him, press my mouth against his body. We were holding hands, I lifted his hand and pressed his fingers to my lips, rubbing my skin across them, flickering my tongue out to lick at them, overcome with the need to feel him against me, aching to please him. I sucked the very tip of his finger in to my mouth, suggestively. I would love to suck on any part of him.

He's like electricity over my body, making me throb, he makes me feel so electric, so submissive...I' lust so much, I'm his. All I wanted to do at work for twelve hours today was message him, ask what he's doing tonight- over rule my emotional needs in this overwhelming ache for his body. I'm a slut for him, and I love that someone can make me that way.

I don't understand though- he didn't touch me at all after we left the cinema.

That's all for now, maybe more thoughts later.

Let me know what you think.

g