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March 20, 2005
His thoughts of me are disrupting his days and nights, he says. I'm flattered, but I don't tell him. I merely ask if he means that the thoughts are distractions.

No, he says. More than distractions. He can't stop thinking about my various talents. The things I do to his body are driving him out of his mind.

I want to tell him I love knowing that while his body presents itself in front of a judge, he's thinking about the last time he presented it to me. But I don't. I pretend his admission doesn't distract me at all.