Peeking Into His Window

I know it’s late. I should sleep, but instead I’m up wondering and trying to put things together. It is always about Him.

I’m thinking back to a text he sent about Him not being a person to me. That what I write here is abstract. I suppose some of that is true, and it’s true in a way that I can’t change it. Probably the only thing that would change that would be meeting Him face to face.

I can’t imagine much about what He’s really like or how He is to be near. I have no perspective. What do I have to go on other than His words and the sound of His voice and some photos? Yes, He has let me see Him two times. Well, actually that’s three times.

Not long ago we were speaking on camera. He was watching me in some lingerie, which I always try and be in when I’m in front of Him. And god I love when He asks if I’m dressed for it. I can feel that, I swear.

He was telling me about a few items that have stayed with Him through His life. This one was a metal given to Him by someone special in His life. It meant a lot to Him and I stupidly mentioned not being able to see it. He told me to shut up because I fucking ruin everything. I shuddered and just stayed quiet and then His camera went on.

I probably had that dead pan expression on because I’m terrified and excited and so fucking scattered I can barely think straight. I tried so hard to look at the metal. I swear I did. I could feel myself trying to concentrate, but I couldn’t. All I could concentrate on was Him.

I could see Him behind the metal. I looked at the pin and tried to memorize it, get something important out of it in case He asked. I so hate fucking things up with Him when He puts me on the spot about His life. I looked…but then like a camera lense, my vision focused on His chest. He was naked from the waist up, it looked like.

I could see the color of His skin was tan with some freckles. It looked smooth and my fingers felt something even though I know I couldn’t. For some reason I imagined His skin feeling cool on the surface the way air conditioning makes you feel, but warmer the longer I kept my hand against Him.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen that. He only left the camera on for just a few seconds it felt like and then shut it. Just the screen saver that I stare at continuously. Felt like a rubber band snapping against my wrist. Like pain because I wanted more.

But I always want more. Though He’ll never give it. I want to know all of Him but I have only said that a few times. It’s always going too far when I say it too. Just like I couldn’t keep my mouth shut about seeing the metal, I can’t hold my tongue about how much I want to feel it on Him. On His skin and cock and anything else He’ll let me taste and touch and feel and breathe in.

I’m just a jerk. I’m just tired too. It’s time to sleep and hope that I’ll wake able to serve in a better way. That’s the reality I need to learn though: It’s not about me or what I want or long for. It’s just not. It’s about serving someone else. About giving and letting Him take control. My needs and desires are what derail me so many times it’s no longer even funny. It’s sad.


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