I can feel something building between Mac and I and I greatly anticipate its arrival. You see, it has been a while, quite a while, since Mac and I had one of those sessions, you know, the ones that go on for hours and hours until we are both so sore that we can hardly move.

When we were at the pub just over a week ago and Mac gave me a knee trembler against the wall, I knew then that He was thinking that if He got me home first, He could fuck me until He tired of it. I knew He was thinking that it would be a long time before He tired of it. I wanted that too, but the immediate need was too pressing to wait. Since then, time and work and other commitments have gotten in the way and though neither of us has said it out loud, it is there between us. It is something that is not sated by the quick fucking we have been doing. It only tends to feed the lust we feel growing. A hand job here, a blow job there, a bent over the side of the bed taken from behind fuck all serve to build the appetite. It feels like we have been snacking when what we really require is a full five-course feast.

And I watch Him moving about and He is unaware of the way He paces, a wound too tight spring, a tiger caged. He doesn't notice that He has looked at His watch for the fifth time in a matter of minutes. He has no clue that His jaw has not unclenched even though His cock is still throbbing from the last orgasm He had. But He sees me. I am in His line of vision even when He is looking the other way. He knows I am still naked, my face still glistening or my thighs sticky with the evidence of the pleasure He has taken and I know that it causes a different kind of throbbing in His groin. He isn't finished. He wants more, so much more, yet the watch on His arm tells Him He has no time. Not now. Not yet.

Sometimes I think it would be kinder to Him to allow it to settle, to stop enticing Him, to stop teasing Him, to allow the lust to fade. Yet I can't because I feel the hunger too. The need to feed on it is too great. This time I refuse to draw away.

So I wait and I watch and I tease and entice and I write, letting Him know that I feel His need even as He denies it to Himself. There isn't time, but we will make it. He is too busy but He cannot starve. He is too tired and this will help Him sleep.

Yes I will watch and I will seduce until all His excuses are nothing, until the throbbing in His groin drowns out the voices of reason in His head. And He will take me and I will ache for Him in places that I have forgotten He can find and enough will just be the beginning of what He will require. He will find the satisfaction that He craves.

It is here. I am ready.

I will wait.