I wrote this for a friend a while ago. I ended the story by giving her the option to A, say please continue the story, or B, say Eww, don't ever write anything like that to me again. Sadly, she chose B.
As I go around your apartment turning off lights and making sure the doors and windows are locked, I shake my head with amusement. You had quite a lot to drink with dinner tonight. It was very good wine. And I think I had at least as much as you, but I have a lot more mass to absorb it. Even so I’m feeling comfortably light headed as I turn off the kitchen light. Stopping by the bathroom I look at my face in the mirror. I look tired but happy. It was a good evening.
The night started fairly rowdy with some of your friends here for dinner. It was an interesting time of conversations, debates, and just enjoying the company of good friends, good food, and good wine. As the rest of them drifted off to go home, I stayed to help you put things away and because I just couldn’t bear to go home yet.
All night while trying to follow conversations, I was really drinking in the intoxicating presence of you. Far better than any wine and infinitely more powerful. Watching you move around the kitchen was so intriguing, and yet frustrating not knowing if you felt the same way. My inclination was to think not. There have been too many chances over the years. I sometimes think perhaps you were just waiting for me to make a move. Other times I’m convinced you would have mocked me for trying. And so here I sit watching your life from the sidelines.
Ah, but then there was tonight. Even while I was thinking you had no interest at all, I would occasionally catch a small look you sent me. I still don’t believe I really saw what I thought I did. But if I did see it, ohhh… The thought of those glances gives me new hope and I remember I’m still standing in your bathroom looking in the mirror. I haven’t heard much sound in the rest of the apartment, so I assume you have either fallen asleep somewhere or you are just waiting to show me to the door.
As I step out, it is dark and quiet except for a sliver of light coming from beneath your bedroom door. I quietly knock in case you are asleep, a depressed vision flitting through my head of having to just let myself out and make sure to bring your keys to you the next day. Even though we spent hours talking together after everyone left, I still want to say some few words to you before I leave. Nothing much, just wishing you a good rest before the next day. And still, as I have been all evening, I am reluctant to leave you. It is almost painful to contemplate.
My uncertainties dissipate when I hear your low voice tell me to come in. The light is dim in your room with just a small light on your desk washing across the room. I see you are already in bed, and my heart beats faster, even while my mind is cautious. As I ease into the room, I see that you have the blanket pulled up to your chin as if you are cold. The look on your face leads me to ask if everything is okay. You respond that you were just feeling a bit light headed from all the wine and needed to rest a bit. Then my pulse jumps a little when you ask me to come sit on the bed and talk to you for a while more. It seems that you aren’t feeling very well, and I don’t want to leave you alone, so I decide, joyfully, to stay.
“Do you need anything? Can I get you some water or Tylenol?”
“No” you say, “I just need to rest for a bit.”
“If your head is hurting, perhaps I could get a wet washcloth for your forehead?” Yes, that would be nice.
So I pad quietly back to the bathroom to get one. Coming back in, I sit on the edge of the bed closest to you and lay the wet cloth across your forehead. The look on your face tells me it is helping. Suddenly, a look of concern crosses your face and you ask if I don’t need to get home myself. You can take care of yourself without bothering me, you say. I know, but I like taking care of you. So I continue smooth the cloth across your forehead, occasionally being daring enough to trail my fingers softly down the side of your face. As you relax into the pillow, you say that is feeling much better. Should I stop? No, please keep doing that, if feels good.
I can’t believe I am actually sitting here on your bed caressing your face which has so many times been in my dreams. I have to fight to not think about where some of those dreams have gone, even while I wonder IF.
Suddenly I look down into your eyes and realize you are gazing up at me. The look I see makes me think even more about some of those dreams. Could I be imagining things? As I hold your eyes with mine, I ask you what you are thinking about.
“I was just thinking that I would like you to kiss me.”
Just that one simple phrase, and suddenly my pulse has doubled and it feels like my heart is about to leap out of my chest. And yet, I can’t help but think that we have had a lot of wine tonight and maybe you are just asking for a good night kiss and then sending me home. That seems more logical given our history, and I don’t want to do anything that will drive you away from me. I think that jumping you while you are half drunk and half asleep, and particularly if you don’t want that, are definitely good ways to get booted from your life.
So I slowly lean over, remove the now almost dry cloth, and kiss you gently on the forehead. As I sit back up, you have a small frown wrinkling your forehead. I am about to get up and leave when you say “That wasn’t exactly what I meant.” I turn slowly with my pulse racing.
“I figured you wanted me to go so you could sleep.”
“If I wanted that, I would have said that.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? We had a lot of wine tonight.”
“I’m fine now. I’m lonely tonight, and I want you to kiss me”
Not believing what is happening to me, I sit back down, and lean in. Looking in your eyes, I silently ask the question again. The look in your eyes tells me to stop being a dope and live a little. I close the gap between us. You are still laying down with the covers up to your chin, so I have to lean way over. As our lips meet softly for the first time, the world seems to explode for me. The amazement and excitement almost make me black out. I have dreamed about this moment since I was too young to know what to do about it. And yet, my dreams can’t even compare. Not in the slightest. The feel of your lips on mine is an ecstasy that transcends dreams.
I stay leaned over rather longer than a mere good night kiss would dictate. As I finally pull back, I see a look in your eyes that I know well. That happily amused look you get when you are feeling playful. I hear you say “I’ve been wanting you to do that for a long time.” If I live to be 1000, I think I will always remember this exact moment.
Finally, though, I think it is perhaps really time for me to go home. I know you have class in the morning and I want you to get some sleep so you can concentrate tomorrow. I say that, and again see that small frown. “You shouldn’t drive home right now. After all, you had a fair bit of that wine too.”
“True,” I say, “but what would you have me do? I guess I can sleep on your couch. It’s a little small, but it should be enough until I feel better able to drive home.”
“I was thinking you could stay in here.”
“Okay, but I don’t usually sleep well on the floor.”
Again you flash me that amused grin. Amused that I still don’t get it. And finally you sit up to look me in the eye. “I wasn’t talking about sleeping on the floor.” And the blanket slips down to your waist, and I see why you have kept it up around your chin the whole time. You have exactly nothing on underneath. Now my heart stops for a second. As my eyes wander down and drink in your wonderfully curvy form, I finally get it. This time there is not hesitation as I lean in to kiss you. This time there is a raw hunger that I feel flowing back from you in equal measures to my own. As we lock our mouths together, I run both hands up into your hair, caressing the sides of your face, then run one hand back down, down your side. Gently touching your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and ever so gently, the soft curve of your breast. It feels more wonderful than I ever imagined. Continuing on down your side, I feel the inward curve of your waist and then continue further to find out that the blanket indeed hides nothing. As you grin at me through our kiss, I can not believe this is happening to me.
One final time. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want there to be any regrets tomorrow. If you want to do this, I want it to be because you decide that, not because you are feeling drunk and lonely.” You smile at me and say “I’m not drunk at all. The last 3 hours I have been drinking water.” And that amused grin is so infectious I can’t help but grin back.
“So this was all a setup?”
“No, no setup. I was just hoping it would turn out this way.”
And I see a small doubt in your eyes now that maybe I will be angry and leave. Are you kidding?
“You have no idea how long I have wanted this. Since the day I first met you, I have wanted as much of you as I could have, and for as long as I could have it. I have dreams. Oh, you have no idea about my dreams…”
“I have an idea” you say. “How about we stop talking about them and see if we can fulfill some of them?”
Without stopping to think, I lean in for another kiss. To fulfill another one of my dreams, you lift one of my hands and place it gently on the amazing swell of your breast. It is real and it is spectacular.
“Now,” you say, as you start removing my clothes, “let’s get you out of these and see if we can fulfill some of MY fantasies…”