neon danger

so tired. i'm going to eat toast then nap. later i'm heading out to see Amanda Palmer and the Danger Ensemble.

today i went to Macquarie where i'll start tutoring next week. i sat in on the lecture, i ate good salad (spinach, pear and goats cheese), i signed paperwork. i caught 3 trains there and 3 trains back. i walked a lot. i thought a lot about last night's text messages.

Paris sent me a text about our tentative meeting today, which now happens tomorrow. he was being flirtatious. this i liked, so i offered a flirtatious response. he asked if i'm looking forward to working with him. i said of course. he was in bed, playing with his iphone. i was making dessert (butterscotch self-saucing pudding). he said he'd like to try my dessert. i said maybe i'll bake for him one day. and then there was the proposition: 'dessert' on thursday. a midday trip to his house.

i showed jessie, confirmed that it was a proposition. i didn't know how to respond. i said we could talk about it thursday. tomorrow.

i've been having fantasies about him for some months, but all of a sudden i'm seeing a big red flashing Danger sign. he's married to my boss. he's technically my supervisor (though only for a month or so). these things make the fantasy more fantastic. but now that it's there for the taking, i'm trying to re-think. i want it but i don't. i know it's likely to have a bad outcome. what if the sex is bad? what about his partner? does he know? what about our colleagues, if they find out? i have two more years at the centre, so i'd rather not sour my relationships there.

i've decided that there'll be no sex tomorrow. maybe when my work for him is complete. that's the sensible thing to do. maybe it'll never happen, which would be even more sensible.

but i hate sensible. i want my body to lead me where it will, experience things, take risks, discard any notion of what's proper or sensible or in the best interests of all involved. thinking about it on the train brought arousal. a slight erection, a quickened pulse, heat. a song on my ipod is all bang and clatter. i want it. and because it's so wrong, i want it more.

i try to imagine sex with him, and i really can't. as a fantasy, there has been no contemplation of his body pressed into mine. his body beneath clothes forms the outline of my desire. as do his touches, his smile, and the brush of his face against mine as we kiss cheeks. beyond this, i cannot imagine. to think of him naked is not arousing. nor is the image of us fucking. maybe all i need is his touch, his subtle affections. moments from which to project my fantasies, which of course, do not involve his participation.

and then what? after fucking, where would i take this? the fantasy would die. maybe that's a good thing. but it will be missed.