The Hunk

I approach him quietly. My hands are aching to touch him, yet I am respectful of invading his space without an invitation. He seems attracted to me; his deep brown eyes , so soft and sensual, catch mine briefly, and it takes my breath away.

I'm not quite sure how I've gotten myself into this situation to begin with. His reputation is well known; if you're weak or unsure of yourself, don't waste your time. He doesn't suffer fools lightly, and will not hesitate to make it known that he has no use for your ego or your inflated sense of importance. He is very comfortable in his own skin, and exhibits no sign that he needs me in his life for any purpose other than visual entertainment.

His mere presence is intoxicating; muscles well defined, an unmistakable aura of strength and dignity combined with an almost magnetic energy about him that is practically impossible to resist. I know that I will not be able to control myself for long. What truly passionate woman could?

We begin a dance of sorts; he steps to the side so as to get a better look at me. I lower my eyes and try to appear as passive as possible, for the last thing I want to do having come this far, is to have him decide I'm some kind of a threat, and leave without having given me a chance to prove I could offer him something.

His powerful legs carry him a strides length away from me now. I can almost feel his breath upon my skin we are so close; his eyes seem to penetrate into the deepest part of me. My palms grow clammy and my pulse quickens. Oh please, please, just once let my hands run gently down that thick, soft hair and let them caress that powerful neck. I want to feel your lips gently nuzzle me. I want to whisper in your ear...................




And at that thought, the mustang snorted and turned, trotting to the opposite end of the corral.