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Control

Do you remember how badly you wanted me in that hotel room?
You should, your memory is better than mine.
I remember how powerful it made me feel
when you showed me how just my presence made you hard
and I didn’t even take my clothes off.
I remember how you begged for a kiss
kneeling before me in my chair,
your arms not touching me yet surrounding me,
desperate, begging, trying and failing to be commanding
and when you finally got one how you trembled.
I felt your hair stand on end
and saw goosebumps rise on your skin
as I made you purr with contentment.
I remember how I told you that I wasn’t ready to have sex with you again
and when you finally got me to lie on the bed with you
how you couldn’t keep your hands off me,
but you didn’t try to take off my clothes.
Still, I had to get off the bed to keep my promise to myself,
to try unsuccessfully keep my peace of mind.
Oh how conflicted I was then,
how conflicted I am now.
I took you back to my place so we could watch that show we love
and I remember how you tried to respect the promise I made to myself
as I stood up to lead you to my room.
I will always respect you for that.
I remember how you rolled us over
begging me with your eyes to ride you
as if you wanted to make sure I really wanted this
so you forced me to take control.
But now I see that maybe you weren’t forcing me to take control,
but was trying to show me that I was in control
but I didn’t really want it.
And it seems like I still have it now
and sometimes I enjoy it,
but really I just want you
to come and take it.

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