“I won’t do it…I just won’t”, I tried convincing myself in vain, shuffling in my seat with my eyes shut and fists clenched. I immediately regained my formal posture for the fear of being noticed in my queer, helpless state by office mates. The stacked up blue files on my work desk were begging for my attention and I finally decided to give them some. I sincerely read the words for some time and filled in the spaces but my sheer inability to concentrate made me realize that I was lost in a space from where there was no returning and honestly, I didn’t intend to. This was desire; it dragged me in, consumed me wholly and left me weak and wanting.
I knew what she was doing. In fact, I knew it too well to assume the possibility of anything else being at play. Like an unwary sea traveller I was being drawn to this pretty siren, once again. What was it about sirens that made them so impossible to resist? If I were a traveller, I’d undoubtedly advance towards the dangerous seduction of a siren than sail in the peaceful sea where the tight pirate pants clinging to my loins would be my only form of sexual relief. Was it the thrill of a danger? Everything dangerous is always so seductive. My mind was enchained by these poetic thoughts I didn’t know I was capable of having. I couldn’t decide anymore if I was playing the game of seduction or was trapped in one. Her innocence and deception, darkness and fire, submission and dominance had me whipped. The contradiction she was, lured me in first and then tactfully threw me out of my own game. I stood there enchanted, like a child in the audience, dazzled by a spectacular show. An angel she was, hired by the devil in a body of aesthetic perfection.
She lured me in by remembering small things about me, my favourite food, books and movies. She began wearing my favourite perfume and now thinking of her reminds me of the scent of a Goddess. She occasionally mentions the insignificant things I said some time back in history, making me feel like I am the centre of her universe. Yet she has that unconquerable, unattainable air around her that makes her seem like a constant challenge. This sweet confusion, I would want to stretch as far as the time and space fabric allows because it fuels my desire to possess. She keeps me involved, confused with a certain poise, not with childish mind games. If I’m being fair, she has an ordinary face but she has put up the greatest play I have ever seen in my life. I know for a fact that I have crossed paths with a master seductress.
Her subtly tight blouse will arouse my curiosity over any display of bare skin. I want to conquer her, save her, hurt her and care for her, everything while being in this endless battle of passion. What did she say to me last night? I have no memory. I do however remember the way she said it; with confidence in her eyes and a shy smile. How could one exhibit confidence and shyness at the same time with so much perfection? Her emotional independence is strikingly refreshing, yet interestingly baffling. I have her for myself but at the same time, she’s not completely mine. This fear of not having conquered her even after marriage is a danger that seduces me further.
It is our first anniversary today since we got married and she hasn’t bothered to call. I want to call her but….”No, I won’t…I just won’t”, the words escaped my mouth one more time. Yet again, I was brought back to the reality when my phone beeped. The files on my dispassionate table were now beginning to give up on me.
“I want you now, or not at all! Decide quickly.” A text message flashed on my mobile screen. By the time I comprehended what it meant, I was already reaching for my car keys in the drawer.
“I shouldn’t seem desperate, I just shouldn’t”, I murmured to myself again as I left the office and hurried into my car. Yet again, after all this time, my inner child, that had not the permission to show up during the day, was lured into her spectacular play.
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