Getting close to the end of my day, but his day is not even halfway over.
I sit here in anticipation of his lunch break, waiting to see if he will have time to message or not. We already had a conversation earlier, and he shared his voice with me.
I sit, and I play that message, thinking about how I am so connected to that voice. Every time he shares it, I melt. A lot of that is the words he uses.
If he only knew how he affects me, he would share that voice more. Of course, he knows, and he keeps it as a reward for good behaviour, maybe. If I knew what it was that I could do to get it all the time, I would do it.
Sometimes we have those things, intentional or not, that train us to crave them. We become addicted.
I can’t imagine any other voice whispering to me, telling me his dirty thoughts, or even just sharing his day. I would be mesmerized by anything he says.
Lisa Gray 