I woke up abruptly. The boom of my heart was thudding in my chest, and I was damp with sweat all over. "Jesus!" I exclaimed softly and looked around wildly. Where was I? Dazed, I scrubbed my face with my hands and looked around at the dark room.
Oh. That's right. I was in Derek's house. Shit.
I'd loved Derek ever since we were teenagers. We grew up together since our parents had been close friends, but his parents had divorced when we were eight. I didn't see him then for several years, but when we met again at 16 it was love at first sight. For me, love was all those things you always hear about: electricity, nerves, bliss, and an occasional odd but very pleasant feeling of sinking into a warm bath. He told me he loved me, and for a while it was wonderful. After a while, being 16 and consequently stupid, I said I wanted to end it and see other people. He was disappointed, but agreed, saying he had seen it coming too.
Over the years in between, I'd been with other people, particularly in college, but nothing important ever came of my experimentation. It was only Derek who would come back to my thoughts again and again. Everything would be going along normally, and then one day I'd get one of his infrequent calls, as we did stay loosely in touch. Or I'd dream of him some night and the cycle of thinking of him and daydreaming of him would start again. We'd never even slept together, but he was the closest thing to a lover I had in my life. Nobody else had ever touched my soul the way he had. At times that fact drove me nuts, since our relationship—for lack of a better word—was so unstable. I wished that either we could get together or that I could finally just move on...that one way or another things would finally be resolved between us.
Last week he'd called me, and as we were catching up on the phone, he told me that he had moved back to his hometown, just a couple hours away from me. He invited me to come up and stay the weekend and since it had been three years since I last saw him, I agreed eagerly. Now, here I was in his house with him sleeping just across the hall.
I felt a hard punch of lust, and got this nearly overpowering urge to go in his room and get into bed with him. It felt like what I imagined junkies went through in withdrawal: an overwhelming need for the object of your desire, feverish body temperature, shaking all over. But I felt constrained. In some ways I felt closer to Derek than anyone in the world, but I could also feel him keeping me at a distance. I sat back against the headboard and my recent thoughts about us ran through my head again.
I am very open and direct with most people and Derek was no exception, but he was much more reserved than me. He was an excellent listener, but rarely spoke about what he was feeling. Both of us were single, were living within a reasonable distance of each other to make a relationship a possibility and I knew neither of these facts had escaped either of us. But Derek had gotten out of a serious relationship not long ago, and I knew he'd been badly scarred by it. I didn't know if he still had feelings for me, and if so if he was ready to act on them. I wasn't even sure what exactly I wanted ultimately. With all this confusing me, I was at a loss for what to do.
Deciding that I at least had to get out of this room, I thought I'd go onto the back deck for some fresh air. I was still hot from thrashing around in my sleep and the sheets were crumpled and clingy. I straightened them so they could air out, opened the window to let some air in, and then went out into the hall. Derek's door was on my way to the sliding glass doors at the end of the hall, and I couldn't help pausing before it, but after a few moments of fierce longing, I sighed and slipped out into the night.
It was a perfect night to be out here with someone else, I realized wryly. The air was balmy with just enough coolness to it and mist snaked through the woods that I could see from the deck. Taking a few slow deep breaths calmed me down a lot and took the edge off my fever. The air felt so good and fresh, and I thought about stripping off my nightshirt. Nobody would see me since the deck faced only the woods. The nearest neighbors were a couple of miles away.
"What the hell," I thought. "Go on Gwen, be a bad girl for a change." I ripped it off, dropping it in a heap beside me. Mmmmm.
That
felt really good. I reached my arms above my head, leaning backwards and stretching luxuriously. A good stretch is almost the next best thing to good sex in my opinion. I was so hot that I could actually see steam very faintly coming off my skin. The nape of my neck was sweaty too, so I ran my hand over it and shook my hair out. As I was massaging my neck, I realized that despite the cooler air on my naked skin I was getting hot inside again, and the lust was creeping back up. The urge to go in and take advantage of Derek in his sleep seemed to be under control though, so I mentally relaxed.
The night breeze caressed me, thin wisps of air brushing me all over. I let my own hands do likewise, and caressed myself. I was covered with light goosebumps, but I was drinking in the fresh air, slaking my skin-thirst. My nipples were initially puckered from the chill, but when I ran my hands over them, my arousal had them swollen and sticking out. I tweaked them and closed my eyes to let myself enjoy the sensations that rippled through my body. Particularly an increasingly deep throbbing between my thighs, a strong desire to be fucked.
Slowly, my hand crept down and into the heat between my legs, tracing the slickness between my nether lips. That light touch made me shiver and moan quietly, as I continued stroking myself, coaxing more wetness forth. Touching myself like this, and as powerfully aroused as I was, I couldn't help but think of Derek. I said his name aloud, hardly more than a low moan. At that, I heard a sharply indrawn breath behind me, and I opened my eyes and whirled around. Standing no more than three feet away from me in the soft dark night was Derek, staring at me, also naked, and breathing almost as hard as I was.
I had no idea what to say or do. We both stood there frozen, and then I recognized the look in his dark eyes. Shock was there, yes, but it didn't take long for me to recognize the need and lust that was there as well. In the few seconds we stared at each other, motionless, it seemed like time stood still as well, and it was in that brief pause that I realized that it didn't matter whether we wanted a relationship, or how he felt about me. I didn't care. It all came down to the fact that we needed to do this, to consummate a relationship that had been years in the developing. What happened afterwards didn't matter.
