i wish i could play the violin

amber champagne, white/long/thick mane and tail, big/pale green eyes, 17 hh, wiry/muscular/clean body, puppy dog face, long legs, narrow chest, regal head, arched neck.

quiet, brooding, mysterious, bemusing, blunt, intelligent, sharp, lonely, haunted, heated, passionate, desirable, angry.

• blacks out occasionally, often doesn't remember what happened.
• back legs twitch periodically.
• zones out regularly though still registers his surroundings.

The air was thick and wonderful on my tongue. It clogged my pores, cut off my breathing, dizzied me with the scent of madness. I could feel the lack of a breeze creating droplets of sweat underneath my mane. It was a lunacy that snapped my brain into clarity - I knew that bouncing between volcanic desire and calculated seduction would only serve to dissatisfy all parties involved. To choose one or the other was oh-so-difficult, and I truly had no inclination toward pleasing such a hungry man . . . Yet, I was always such a sucker for people-pleasing, and the imaginary noises in my head had my determination crumbling like a woman on her knees.

He had a body made of fine wine, and I wanted to take a swift sip of his liquid coat. Green eyes snapped upward toward roiling brown eyes - we could create a planet just as feverish as earth. I did not dare blink; I held the man's gaze with an uncontrollable intensity. There was a stiff understanding that controlled my body . . . I could not tear myself free from the cables of heated enthrallment.

"Hello," a voice of smoothly rolling thunder beat distractingly in my ears. I twitched imperceptibly, leaned forwardly slightly. "Might I ask what a delicious creature such as yourself is doing all alone in a dark cave?" The heat of proximity burned threateningly close to my judgement - I wanted to set fire to his florid pelt. Diction was an enchanting tool, and the word "delicious" had me thinking of what the pomegranate man tasted like. I hoped he tasted of strawberry but felt as if he were lava. There was no escaping the fire that these thoughts had lit in my forest of a mind. The stallion had set a wildfire blazing in my brain, and it would take a hurricane to put it out.

We held a quiet pitch - neither voice rose higher than a blade of grass, yet both thrummed with raucous tension. My body was a blanket drifting gently down, but my mind was a bed sheet pulled taut over a mattress too big: the man would never be able to physically see the desire intertwined with each susurrus word.

Slightly taller than me, yet of the same build - he was a stallion to pay attention to. I blinked once, broke our line of vision for less than a second. I could sense the oxygen leaving his lungs; we were so close I thought the warmth radiating off of the man's body would cause me to break a sweat. Step one, step two . . . too close, and I realized that just as our noses scarcely brushed. I immediately lifted my head to look into the man's eyes.

"Delicious? You have yet to take a bite."