As I look up, my eyes bare into him. I am bare for him, my expression raw and natural and my face is begging. It’s begging like I’ve never begged before, but it’s also a look of admiration. It’s awe and wonder and honor. I am here, in this moment, because he WANTS me to be. He has brought me to this place on the edge, over and over and over again. This place where I only see him, I only feel him, and I am desperate. I desperately need to do as he asks, as he wishes. To simply follow. My face is begging, but it’s not begging to come, it’s begging to follow whatever direction passes his lips – it doesn’t matter. I desperately want release, but my release will come when he tells me what to do. He will tell me what he wants me to do.
And I will do as he wishes.