Strangers

I swear with the way he looks at me, some would think we have a secret involved between us, but I don't even know who is he. 
I must admit, I probably blush every time he looks over to glaze me up and down. Or the way he stares deep into my eyes, even though he is distant, it feels like I can feel his breath against me. I can't help myself. 
These passionate stares, like we have already been intimate, as if he has already touched me, kissed me,  undressed me, like he already has me wrapped around his finger. What's his name? 
I'm loosing myself in theses non existent thoughts and memories, imagining myself up against his glorious body,  as he runs his hands down my back, firmly pressing my hips into his. I need to stop, and he needs to stop capturing my wandering eyes. 
As if I met him once before, and he knows every fantasy and desire burning inside. I blush, and break the  stare, it's time to break the ice. This game is exhausting.  
But I have to wonder, how long can I keep him guess because I'm pretty sure he is undressing me with his eyes; and he is surely wondering if I would allow him to do it.