A story of romance and tenderness inspired by dreams of mine in which all my hidden passions for the one of my adoration come out in ways beyond my control. It being as if willed by my inner lusts that rise above the control my mind attempts to impose on them.
He is my private teacher to edify me in the languages of the world which range from English to Spanish to Italian yet he seems as if created by my fantasies of the sort of man, I had always wanted but in all reality never thought I would encounter beyond my visions of the night. He being a man of intellect to speak in several tongues including my native Polish while possessor of the personality to make me take notice that he is one to motivate me to thoughts and passions rarely known even to myself. How it was admiration, at first that drew me while his exterior physique like his intellect left nothing for me to desire, for his looks like the rest of him had been molded by my deepest wishes of the night.
So much for my eyes to behold to stir up my fantasies, it being in his dark hair to contrast my light blonde and in skin tone which though white does not take on the pale shade of my own. His body being one that does not provide muscles of large proportions yet does allow my eye to gaze upon a man of sensitivity with ample strength to make my body quiver with but his delicate stroke upon my skin. This being that which be of such power as to strike fear in me for how I might react yet greater trepidation would come should I loose domination of myself, to forget the vows I took to my husband and the financial bonds which tie me down to a life which more and more looses its significance.
His name, I mention not anymore than I do my own yet I do say that his eyes are those that seem to see so much of me which none ever had while allowing me to almost glance in to a personality of warmth which at times creates in me such sensations as to not allow him to leave my mind. It being he who, occupies my thoughts almost to point of driving out all other functions that include the longing to eat or conceive in my mind that which does not involve him. In all this I wish I could say that “my dear teacher”, as I have come to consider him does not return my affections, for if the case were such my desires would move away from him yet his yearning for the one he has dubbed “my angel” is not surpassed by my own.
His is such a presence in my life that I can not escape it regardless of where my sprees may take me. It being one which does not even require me to think of him, for he is a constant in my psyche as is the air I breath in my lungs which I feel while I am awake and in the hours of my slumber. It being those hours of the night that include sleep which takes me away from my world of problems that include the marriage I have come so bitterly to regret yet delivers him on to me in full force as occurs with the arrival of every sunset.
How I could present those whom should read this story with page after page of my nocturnal visions that include promenades along romantic beaches, elegant dinners with champagne and candles on yachts and so many others yet all to end in acts of intense carnality. All in their form being different from each other yet still to make me tremble in my slumber as if fever stricken. How many times it has been that my senses were taken to their limits by what I know to be our mutual adoration of each other that consumes so much of us as to leave little if anything to ourselves which be private.
How I could go in to detail of the roles “my dear teacher” and I play, as we dress up in our most elegant attire that witnesses him in dark Armani suits while I, his angel; do not disappoint in gowns to give more sparkle to our encounters. I, at times finding myself in long dresses that include openings in the back or slits just adequate that I might show my dear teacher how it is stockings to adorn the legs his eyes and at times hands have come to caress in a manner to entice me more than I would have ever believed could be done on to me.
Naturally, all from our places of encounter to our attire to the fashions we employ to the roles we play lead us to climatic explosions that transform themselves to his placing ever tender kisses upon my lips as our mouth and tongues serve as mere instruments to pass on our desires for other acts of grandeur. It being so vivid to me in my vision of sleep how his taste does not fail to include the rose of my femininity, to inspire its moisture that it might become the flower of our mutual love. So much does occur when our passions can no longer be tamed by our conscious which limits us during the day yet sees ours take flight as legs of mine cease to be that but take on the form of wings while our bodies entwine in acts of pure sexuality that exclude not desire, lust and above all adulation.
Oh, how I could describe acts of this nature to share with those whose eyes meet with my literature yet I shall not, for my deepest fantasies I keep but to myself, to be shared with none others than my trusty diary and dear teacher; who by now has become all too aware of my dreams. It being our minds and fantasies that join our bodies in the night as to make it clear during the day that we did not only share the hours of slumber but also our desires which expressed themselves in simultaneous dreams along with explosions common to us both. Ours even being one that we have come to believe though we have never spoken about it openly that it is dreams which are the reality while the other world is but an escape from the ardent desire we so strongly share.
So much do, I desire from my dear teacher, as he does from his angel yet our lives include complications to comprise our marriages and bonds of our societies, some of which even have been created by our own minds yet in our unspoken faith; I see the day when we will break free from all to be as we are in our mutual dreams. This being a state of such grace as to bear witness to lives holding but complete harmony while expanding to include progeny. This that which I, at present can not claim to have though my womanly instincts do so desperately seek along with my dear teacher.