Forbidden
Everyday I see him, watch him, gaze at him, anytime I can.
Everyday I want to talk to him, walk with him, laugh with him, yet I can't.
Everyday I want to hug him, to kiss him, to touch him, wondering if he sees me, wondering if he hears me, wondering if he wants to talk to me.
Every night I want to see him, watch him, gaze at him, any time I want to.
Every night I want to talk to him, walk with him, laugh with him, all the time.
Every night I want to hug him, kiss him, touch him, when he's lying right next to me.
Every time I look at him, I want to shiver- shiver in excitement and pleasure.
Every time I daydream, I think of him, with sweat glistening in the sunshine off his creamy, smooth chest, down to his 6- pack, down his sculptured muscles and body.
Every time I fall asleep and dream, I think of me, writhing with pleasure under him, while he plunges his rock hard cock deep into me, while I scream in pleasure, and I want to groan in disappointment when he takes his shaft out of me, then moan in enjoyment when he inserts himself in me again, stroking and touching me as I quiver as I am on my way into ecstasy. I want to hear him grunt as he comes within me and ejaculates his sperm, his seed, and hear myself yell as I have an organism.
Every time I wake up after that, and realize that I am in my bed and not in his.
Every time I think of that dream, I know that I cannot have him.
I cannot have him because he is untouchable.
He is my hidden desire.
He is my hidden love.
To everyone else, he is free.
When I see someone looking at him, I want to mark him as my own.
But I can't.
To everyone else, he is available.
To everyone else, they can have a dream-come-true, and bed him.
But not to me.
To me, he is like a forbidden fruit.
He is a forbidden person to me.
To me, he is my love that is out of bounds.
To me, he is forbidden.
For he is MY forbidden, for he is my godfather that is only one thing to me.
Forbidden.
Everyday I see him, watch him, gaze at him, anytime I can.
Everyday I want to talk to him, walk with him, laugh with him, yet I can't.
Everyday I want to hug him, to kiss him, to touch him, wondering if he sees me, wondering if he hears me, wondering if he wants to talk to me.
Every night I want to see him, watch him, gaze at him, any time I want to.
Every night I want to talk to him, walk with him, laugh with him, all the time.
Every night I want to hug him, kiss him, touch him, when he's lying right next to me.
Every time I look at him, I want to shiver- shiver in excitement and pleasure.
Every time I daydream, I think of him, with sweat glistening in the sunshine off his creamy, smooth chest, down to his 6- pack, down his sculptured muscles and body.
Every time I fall asleep and dream, I think of me, writhing with pleasure under him, while he plunges his rock hard cock deep into me, while I scream in pleasure, and I want to groan in disappointment when he takes his shaft out of me, then moan in enjoyment when he inserts himself in me again, stroking and touching me as I quiver as I am on my way into ecstasy. I want to hear him grunt as he comes within me and ejaculates his sperm, his seed, and hear myself yell as I have an organism.
Every time I wake up after that, and realize that I am in my bed and not in his.
Every time I think of that dream, I know that I cannot have him.
I cannot have him because he is untouchable.
He is my hidden desire.
He is my hidden love.
To everyone else, he is free.
When I see someone looking at him, I want to mark him as my own.
But I can't.
To everyone else, he is available.
To everyone else, they can have a dream-come-true, and bed him.
But not to me.
To me, he is like a forbidden fruit.
He is a forbidden person to me.
To me, he is my love that is out of bounds.
To me, he is forbidden.
For he is MY forbidden, for he is my godfather that is only one thing to me.
Forbidden.