This brings me to the First Time we met, I saw you poised. Waiting. Heaven-sent. I stopped like I hit a wall, I re-traced my steps. The potency of your perfection, I had to catch my breath. I saw you catch my eyes, you probably knew what that meant. But I wasn't gonna' engage you, the timing wasn't correct - You're gonna know I'm for real, but no; not yet. My beautiful Simba, your mane flowing, as if it were wet. You’re the Recipe for my Lioness, your my Wet Dream’s ingredients. The Master makes moves, tactics strong like cement. Patient, I will remain - content to take in your scent, imagining your purr, your body caressing me, like your pet.
This brings me to the Second Time, and the Butterfly Effect. There you were yet again, and I hesitated, stutter-stepped. This time I caught your eyes, saw you crane your neck. I reveled in your curves, oh my God, it was ready, set... infinite possibilities, each one dependent on the next. And, My Future adjacent to my left, more than I could ever expect. It would be my honor, to give you respect; to have and to hold, and to redefine "sex." You'd be pride on my arm, your lips an orgasm on my neck. And, to think I was hesitant - I found chemistry, like Genentech. It went from "could she... would she ever?" to "mark my words. bet."
