It were little things, but slowly, steadily, I felt how I changed. Little things, the way I stood, spoke, dressed and even the way I held a glass. He was never angry with me, but he had a certain authority over him that made it impossible for me to ignore his orders. I wanted to do anything to please him. And strangely enough… because of him I also started to feel more confident, like a more worthy person.
I loved him so much… I wanted to be with him all the time. Everywhere I went I saw signs of his presence, it was almost paranoid. The lessons continued, and people started to notice. My confidence enabled me to speak in public without a trembling voice; it made it easier to make new friends and to get to know people. Suddenly people came to ask me for advice on things, wanted to know my opinion, needed my help with something. It started really slowly, but all of a sudden it was like a tsunami coming over me. People knew me, I had become something of “a topic”, or how do you say that.
I had always been an introvert with only a few friends, the kind of vague, grey person that is always the first face on the class photo whose name you forget. Now I was someone. They didn’t forget me. I left an impression. Every time I felt my old shyness come up, I thought of him… and then it was as if he was with me, holding my hand to make me feel safe. I conquered my fears with his help.
A few months further, and I was as happy as could be when he gave me a book. It was a book in his language, and I was terribly excited to start reading it… but it wasn’t a children’s book. The sentences were way too long and too complex, and required an understanding of grammar I hadn’t acquired yet. It made me feel sad, but yet again it was a reminder of how much I still had to learn. I started from scratch, again. Deciphering more than reading. He sat next to me while I worked on it. Word by word my understanding grew. Sentence by sentence I translated the text into something I could understand. The more I worked on the same set of sentences, the more I started to see the cohesion of the text, patterns that only become clear when you really understand what it says, not just the approximate meaning. I started laughing when I discovered it. We sat in the library, at our usual table, and my laugh was too loud for the quiet environment. He put his finger on my lips to stop me from being noisy. The touch of his skin on my lips practically set my neural pathways on fire. Our eyes met, and in his I saw not only approval but also… passion. I dared to open my mouth a bit, letting the tip of my tongue touch his finger. He took his hand away and pulled my head closer, until our lips touched. He softly bit my lip when I made my tongue touch his. I still know, as was it yesterday, how his strange scent intoxicated me, as we were so close. Our tongues slowly explored each other’s mouth, the landscape of our teeth. The library, the possibility of being seen… it didn’t matter anymore. It was all gone; there was only he, his mouth, his beautiful slender body and his long fingers… Oh, I had no greater desire than to feel those on me. And he knew, god he knew.
I don’t exactly remember how we got from the library to the hotel room, but we got there, and his hands… they were divine. He undressed me slowly, heightening the tension that was already tearing me apart. He caressed my body, teasingly touched my dripping wet cunt and kissed me. His kisses… Ah, when I remember them I lick my lips as if I can still taste his lips on mine. When he finally mounted me and I felt him in me, the surroundings and everything had lost importance completely. I came, screaming out loud, as a wave of happiness overwhelmed me. It was the best feeling I had ever had, perfect in every way. I don’t know how long we have lain there, entangled on the bed in the hotel I didn’t even know the name of. It was pure bliss. When I finally got to myself again, lying in his arms, I realized I finally understood what goes through a drug addict’s head when he wakes up. More. Again.