Our Intentions

And of course, I called him. He picked up with his manly voice. I said nothing besides, “Melting Chocolate.”
I hung up the phone, and I sat there, touching my chest, feeling as though I was living in a dream. I had just encountered the man who made me melt, made my ice cream melt, made my heart melt, and made time stand still. Nothing else in the world mattered to me anymore. I sat on the bed, breathing heavily, and even my touch was sensual. Even the satin sheets atop my bed were sensual. It was as if this unknown man made life, the world, and the universe more sensual.
I couldn’t continue on with my day. I sat there on the bed for hours, thinking about that last night. The way he touched me, the way he licked me, the way I could barely handle him, the way I came so quickly.
It wasn’t until the fifth hour, I decided to get off the bed and stop daydreaming. I fed the cat, cooked some food, and went outside. Outside, since it was my Saturday, I didn’t do anything but soak up the sun and read a book – A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, which really wasn’t my type of story, but I promised my girlfriend that I would read it. I realized that after attempting to read it sober, that the language was just a little too difficult; however, a little margarita and tequila, A Clockwork Orange becomes as fluent as English.