If the shoe fits... {Part One}

If I had known--and, who can really know anything beforehand--what trouble would come my way, I never would've been so agreeable, so oblivious, to the consequences.
In every moment I'd spend with Jules there always seemed to be an unspoken wish clinging to our conversation. If we were seated in Tony's Bistro, holding hands, his voice became smooth and sexy; his fingers, massaged the cleft, between my own; his eyes, were two blue pools I'd helplessly fall into; and yet not a word was ever spoken between us.

This man knew me as no man had ever known me. If Jules were here now, reading these words, with a hand upon my shoulder, I'd know exactly what to write:

Dear Jules:
What you've asked of me has left me wet and ashamed. You've gotten what you wanted; all your gazing, your fantasies, leaving me breathless, and suspended.
The shoe could not have been on the other foot, my dear. I was blind, completely blind, to the impulses you drew out of me. Out of some shadow-place, you stepped as a guide, binding my hands behind my back, slipping your long fingers into the waistband of my thong.....

....Like a hot breeze, your voice caressed each ear:

**
"You don't have to do this, you know."


**

Yes. I thought I knew.

I trusted Jules.

I loved him.

{to be continued}

~x~SinfullyAnon.






10/10/08~ 3:06 AM