It’s something about your mystique. How when you walk around the house naked the room seems to be shrouded in smoke. The colours become more vibrant. Maybe it’s the contrast of the waking world against the coffee tones in your skin. Or the way the gravity sits on the thick curves of your hips while you saunter across the floor. Cat-like. It might even just be in your eyes. The way they squeeze tight with mischief and observation. I see you too, you know. I see the wanting in the way you sprawl across the couch. The way you twist that slim waist to reveal your big supple breasts – as if you could ever hide them away. The way you offer yourself to my preying eyes. Somewhere between nervous and excited I see the vulnerability in opening yourself to me. I see the trust you have in me and I respect it. You will not regret letting me love you.