Fractions for fun - 5. Sweetest perfection

I’m walking way too fast through the corridors at work, feeling like our imminent rendez-vous is plainly written all over my flushed face. Occasionally, I stumble as my feet can’t keep up with my eagerness. Keeping secrets was never my thing, but a quick glance around lets me conclude our secret isn’t out. Not yet, anyway. My attempts to slow down fail and instead my feet quicken their pace, almost of their own accord. That email sent such a shock through my body. Now? Today? Not that I’m complaining. It just took me by surprise.

I’ve been waiting and wanting for so long. Needing perhaps. Like an itch deep within that won’t stop, no matter how I try. At times, I even pictured myself as an addict, so it made sense to try a detox. Shifting my body’s focus away from you. I only ended up with a deeper craving for you, since I had no distractions. Yoga was no good either. How is peace of mind supposed to come from sweating in a room full of pervy-breathing strangers? When I got desperate one weekend, I even went hiking with Kelis. She got tired of my whining and told me to get you out of my system. Whatever I had been doing so far was obviously not working.

I’ve tried to figure out when it all started. Sometimes I feel as if we have been on a trajectory destined to meet all our lives. I know it’s madness, but the pull is so strong I almost can’t resist. Even though I should. I really should. Even as a child, I used to picture you. Not in a weird way, but simply as a destination. Perhaps that is it. You are my destination. Or is that destiny? But I don’t believe in destiny. I’m a rational person, known for my self-control and clear head. Unfortunately, all that goes out the window in your presence.

Mother used to sigh at me and shake her head, worried about the ten-year-old with a head filled with hazy wants and barely contained and mostly incomprehensible desire. Her attempts at talking to me about my fixation were all in vain. Already at a young age, I knew what I wanted. The walls of my room didn’t look any like those of my friends. Somehow, they still accepted me. Perhaps they expected me to change as I grew up, that it was phase. It wasn’t. The only thing that changed were the objects of my desire. For the longest time, it’s been you. Only you.

My friends keep telling me you’re no good for me. They mean well, though I tell them to butt out. And I agree with them. You will be my downfall. But you’re like drug. A seductive and alluring drug, calling for me. Only you will do. No matter what I experience, I always end up thinking of you.

When I see you across a room, all sweet and smooth, it’s like an invitation to lick and even bite. As if I’m some sort of ferocious animal. I can feel myself blush and try to control these urges, even though I want nothing more than to give in. To feel you against my tongue, to feel your texture under my fingertips as I carefully explore. Finding new treats hidden from everyone else. Our secret, our time.

I know there are others in your life. Plenty of others. Can I live with being one in a long line? Too many nights, I dream of you. What it would feel like to have you all around me, surround me, even though I know it’ll be the other way around. I have strange visions of throwing myself at you, pressing my body against you as if we could become one. There’s only one way that can happen and I have resisted fiercely, knowing I can’t give in. You are not for me. You can never be.

You always seem oblivious of my struggle. Nothing is difficult for you. It is as if you don’t really care. But I know you do. You must care. Wait, why would you? Everything comes so easy for you. No need to make impossible choices. You show up and automatically people are happy. They gravitate towards you. Who wouldn’t when you are the sweetest sin?

With a glance to each side, I slip through a door. To be doing this at work is a terrible idea. What will my colleagues think of me? My desire is too strong, though.

I stand outside our meeting place, anxious and fidgety. The place is a bit too open for my taste, but I don’t call the shots here. I don’t get to decide. That’s the nature of our relationship. If you can call what we have a relationship. I didn’t expect you to even have noticed me. Until that email. Was it really from you? I don’t care anymore. I know you are close. I can feel it.

Opening the final door, my hands reach for you. I’ve eliminated the final obstacle and we come face to face, body to body. I lick my lips. You remain quiet, of course. Unmoving. Smug. So sure I have no defenses left.

The last strands of my control snap and I surge forward. Your taste explodes on my tongue and I moan in pleasure. You are everything I ever dreamed of, only better. Smoother, tastier, richer on my palate than I imagined. A frenzy takes over and using fingers, lips and tongue, I gorge myself on you.

I can never get enough. You are the devil. Devil’s Food Cake.