She sees him. Their eyes meet.First his eyes register shock, then confusion. Is this really her? Is this the girl that I have shared my life with for over a year? Then he sees the one thing that melted his heart the first time he saw a picture of her, except this time he sees it in person...her smile. He stands up as she slowly walks towards him. She stops 12 inches away from him, not knowing what to do now. She sticks her hand out and says "Hi, my name is Sara." He closes the 12 inches between them in a couple steps and pulls her in to a hug he has been wanting to give her for a long time. As he hugs her, she tries to take everything in at once. His smell...gosh he smells good!! His arms around her...they felt just as she imagined! His chest as she leaned in to the hug...he was so muscular!They hugged for what seemed like forever, until finally Mike let her go and pulled her chair out for her. They spent hours talking and laughing. They felt like they had known each other for years,. I swallow, wondering how long it will be that I wait here and whether this, in itself, is a test? How long would it take, tigger, before you decide to rise and leave the room? Can you control the thoughts passing through your mind on a loop: "Has something happened?"; "Am I being watched?"; "Have I been forgotten?"; "Am I worthy?"; "Can I truly yield?"The thought of being watched starts to obsess me. Was the antique mirror really a two-way one, are there hidden cameras? Who, oh who, plans to enter this room?Then back to reflecting on the photograph, that refined and seductive face that was so alluring that it stopped all else for me and I could not stop watching her. And yet, in the photo, she is naked, marked with the brand of a slave...boldly staring, with an intensity yet calmness, no distress showing. An expression that can only be described as a sense of self, of pride.As my mind is wandering, I hear the sound of a door knob turning. The door to my room is being opened and I.
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