8:24 pm - i scarf down a Chinese chicken salad before leaving for the party, so that i wouldn't park myself near the cheese and crackers all night. The tiny slip of paper hidden within the fortune cookie that i eagerly cracked open read this: "what do you want?" Now, how in the hell is that a fortune? I turned it over, looking for something more as i nibbled on one edge of the broken bland cookie. Nothing.
i drive on two freeways, obediently following the instructions of my in-car navigation system, but not really paying attention to where i was going, lost in my own thoughts ... What do I want? Stupid fortune that isn't a fortune, but it was an intriguing question. What did I want?
A chance to do it over again, to turn the page back to that day, or rather turn the page of our collective novel backward in time, to that crisp evening when we first met. Today reminded me of that day -- the cool-clean feeling of a new january morning -- the world simmering after a three-day thunderstorm.
i walk confidently into an unfamiliar house, alive with a festive early-January party; people sucking out the last breath of the holidays. i step into the grand room, and instantly "feel" your presence; across the room, holding court, but keenly aware of my every move. The secret scent of your desire --distinct from any of the other party scents; the sticky sweet pall of liquored bodies sweating out seduction in flavors of cinnamon, apple and pine, but the fervent burn of your lust that only i could smell above them all, made me heady and unsettled.
i acknowledge the erotic sensation of You undressing me with your mind's eye, as you smile in conversation with some nameless woman across the room -- just out of my view. i bow my head down to one side, attempting to somehow eavesdrop on Your inner-dialogue, listening to Your silent assessment of me.
You're paying attention to that girl with seemingly rapt attention, but Your steely-blue eyes are on transfixed on me, burning through me, conjuring up fantastic fantasies of the dirty slut you'd turn me out to be, just as soon as you decide the "when" of our situation. The next second wouldn't be too soon in my estimation, but i silently forbid myself the luxury of acknowledging my slutty needs and instead turned them to intensify on the fierce wanting to only serve You and make You happy.
Then the question of "where?" the bathroom, the kitchen, the coat closet? no matter. And with that sly thought, my cunt flushed with hot need, reminding me of my dirty desires ... My smooth virgin neck tingling with the ache for your touch, your warm breath whispering dirty words of exactly who i am, and the nasty, naughty things You'd do to me; Your nose brushing gently against the back of my ear as You nudge my hair away, and whisper how "fucking hard" i have made you with my slutty presence ... how You are quite aware of what a total whore i truly am - underneath all this charm-school-girl etiquette that i present outwardly - and how very soon You'd fuck my mouth, my cunt, my mind ... and "oh look here ..." just look how wet the little slut has become. My, my ... I lick my lips absentmindedly.
You smile mysteriously through the crowd at me, and then turn away, breezing back to your conversation with that woman. Foreign, lithe, pretty, feminine; her lips more plump than mine, her hair darker, longer, her tits a little fuller, her eyes colored with the same lust and desire -- though not as intense -- as my eyes. i felt the pangs of jealousy rise inside of me and clenched my jaw. i don't know her, and i don't care to -- I didn't like her energy from the get-go, and not simply because she had Your attention. i instinctively perceived her as "fake," and i just don't care for fake people.
She only seemed interested in You because of who you are in our little social circle ... the success You'd achieved, the material things You had acquired, the material comforts your lifestyle could provide to her.
But there you are across the great room, glancing back at me -- our eyes meet. my eyelids flutter, trying to recapture my imaginary interaction. i bite my lower lip unconsciously in remembrance of my sweet dirty fantasy, and unwittingly tuck my hair behind the ear where i felt your make-believe breath hiss my fate.
i turn away completely, my face red with shame, my back to you, engaging in mundane conversation - a valiant effort to deny You access to my psyche, my body, as i desperately attempt to ignore You.
i momentarily lose my balance, teetering to one side of my tall black high-heel, and then regain my equilibrium with an about-face toward my Hostess, turning my attention to trivial party things: how was your new year and how about that rain; what can i get you to drink and let me hang up your coat; did you try that new restaurant downtown and how is your dog? Questions i know the answers to are easier for me to answer.
You don't seek me out, rather You let me marinate in the wanton juices you've stirred up ... my cunt hot with the desire to be plunged into deeply by Your thick cock again and again. And ultimately left wanting more.
I move gracefully around the room, smiling my winning smile, flitting from one mindless exchange of niceties to another; trying too hard to pretend as though i don't notice you ... feel you ... need you. You never lose sight of me, and i no longer know what it is like to not feel you near me. Something has changed, the earth has shifted - the imprint of you upon me ... i can't shake this, and it is unsettling, unfamiliar, scary and new.
i wander outside, feeling alone in unfamiliar dark waters that you have suddenly pulled me into. i amble, unaware and aimless, down a garden path while trying to reconcile the feelings that you've riled up inside of me.
a hedge a turn a bench a fountain ... a lusty thought that pulls my attention away my self-awareness
a realization: i'm lost and alone in a strange place. i sigh, only partially thankful for the solitude i've stumbled upon in the wooded backyard of this party.
the quiet pierces the night, and i am quickly keen to the reality that there are no longer sounds of a party surrounding me, just the crackle of newborn stars, and a faint flutter of tiny cricket wings attempting one last lonely note.
i slow my gait, perk my ears, listening to the crunch of leaves under footstep. i stop, crane my neck out like a fawn assessing the change of mood. The quiet grows louder, my heartbeat thumps harder, the wind skips across the thin fabric of my dress and my nipples shiver straight to attention. i hold my breath.
Your "hello" thunders through the night air and my breath is sucked from my quivering chest.
i spin to meet you face to face, but it is such a foggy night, that all i can make of You is a shadowy, dark figure. i'm at a loss for words, (a rarity for me,) and You laugh at having caught me off guard.
"it's rude not to reply to a greeting, you know." You chastise me.
i stammer, "i, uh, i'm sorry ... i just ... You just ..." i peer into the night, trying to pretend as though i don't know it is You.
"um, do I know you?" i ask meekly, attempting to sound strong and in control.
You step out of the shadows and stand as close as You can without touching me.
"Do you know me -- ha!" You shake Your head.
The night settles between our two worlds.
"Cheeky, little slut." You're genuinely amused at my response.
You press your warm lips against my cheek, and breathe in the sweet smell of my face, gripping a chunk of my golden hair tightly in Your strong hand.