I lean in to kiss Thomas, and, feeling his lips against mine, hope to send him messages of my own desire. I pull his hair, moan into his mouth, and whisper, "Let's go into my room."
"I don't know," he sighs, "I'm pretty tired."
I'm disappointed, but not surprised. We've been going out for a few months now, and I can steadily feel my self-esteem dropping the more he seems uninterested sex. I'm not sure what's wrong with me - I've always thought myself attractive: petite and curvy, with soft white skin and red hair that flows down my back.
Still, when we do have sex, I can't say I feel much better. I'm quite generous in the bedroom, but anything longer than a couple minutes of foreplay and he's complaining of a stiff wrist, and he's said himself that going down on women does nothing for him. This lack of interest in my pleasure extends to straight sex as well, where I'm always left breathless and needing of something more, unsatisfied and (I hate to admit it) resentful as he rolls over, smiling, while I'm left to wait till he leaves in the morning to satisfy myself. I've tried to spice things up, but Thomas remains stubbornly vanilla, unwilling to try anything new or exciting to make things better for me.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts when my phone rings. It's my best friend, Sara, and I answer immediately.
"Hey, I just got off work and I've got nothing to do tonight. Wanna come over?" she asks.
"Sure," I tell her, knowing my boyfriend will be leaving soon. I don't much want to spend the whole night alone.
A couple of hours later and I'm kissing Thomas goodbye. Still a bit stung by his rejection earlier, but determined to have a nice time, I go into my room to fix my makeup and put on my favorite skirt, hoping looking nice will cheer me.
Just as I'm finishing, she arrives, and soon I'm laughing at her jokes as she speeds towards her house, stereo cranked.
"Oh, and by the way," she says, her voice raised over the music, "My roommate is having someone over. His girlfriend just broke up with him, so he's feeling down. We're gonna try and cheer him up, so we're gonna bust out the wine. Is that alright?"
I tell her yes, excited at the prospect of this small party.
When we get to her house, and let ourselves in, I see that her roommate's guest has already arrived. I nearly trip over the coffee table as I take him in. The first thing I notice are his eyes, colored the brightest blue. Tall, with pale skin, and a shock of jet-black hair, he's probably just a couple years older than me, maybe 22 to my 19. I find myself forcing myself to remember the boyfriend who just left my house.
"Hi, I'm Rain," I say, reaching out my hand, trying to look into his eye.
"I'm Aiden," he tells me, and takes my hand. His hand is warm, soft, and strong. "We already dipped into the wine a bit, but you're welcome to have some too, if you want."
I immediately agree, and, a couple glasses of wine later, I'm much more comfortable, laughing with my friend at Aiden's self-deprecating jokes, and extending my sympathies towards him as he talks about the - idiotic, in my mind - woman who left him earlier that day. Sara and her roommate announce they're going to bad after a long while, as they have and early shift together the next morning. So, I'm left with Aiden.
"Thanks for talking to me about this by the way. We weren't together long, but it still sucks to be without her, you know?"
"I totally understand. You've only had about one drink tonight though. When I break up with someone I clear out the liquor cabinet. Trust me, you'll feel better. Well, at least till morning." I smile at him.
He laughs, and pours himself a small glass of wine. But, before raising the glass to his lips, suddenly says, "How would you like to go for a drive?"