I never really considered myself a particularly extraordinary person. I'm in my late 30's, have pasty white skin, and have a nose slightly larger than average. On the other hand, I've managed to keep a full head of hair, and I'm in better shape than most men my age. I managed to obtain a Ph.D. in electrical engineering a few years back, and I suppose you could say that's my one accomplishment in which I have a bit of pride. That's kind of where this story starts.
I work for the government, and I'm encouraged to share some of my research by attending conferences where I can present my work. Generally (but not always), the government foots the bill for these conferences. Well, there was a particular conference that I wanted to attend on the East coast, simply because it would allow me to meet up with some of my old friends whom I met in graduate school, and revisit some old haunts. This conference "wasn't in the budget," so I decided that I would pay for the plane ticket out-of-pocket, and post on Facebook to see if any of my old friends would offer up a couch or spare bedroom.
After a day or two, I got a message in my inbox. "Hey," it read. "I saw that you were coming in and needed a place to stay. You can crash at my place, if you'd like." It was the last person I expected to hear from. Her name was Alice.
Alice and I were graduate students at the same time a few years ago and we both worked in the same university laboratory. I always considered her beautiful but, being socially inept, I never had the courage to tell her. She was also in a relationship at the time, so it never seemed appropriate. That was my excuse, anyway.
From what I remembered, she had redish-auburn, shoulder-length hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle behind her glasses every time she smiled. It was no secret that she was a regular at the gym, so her body was fantastic. I can remember several occasions in which I could scarcely take my eyes off of her chiseled, 5'4" frame while we were working together. It was all I could do not to cast a glance if she leaned over her work bench. She was a nerd, but she sure as hell didn't fit the stereotype.
What I found most attractive about her, though, was that she was strong, smart, and assertive. She wouldn't take shit from anyone, and she could be especially passionate when it came to defending her friends. If someone were to act like an inconsiderate ass, she'd be the first to let them know, and she could shut down anyone's protestations with her intelligence.
Of course, I accepted the offer to stay at her place. I would have been crazy not to.
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I got out of the taxi and walked toward the entryway to Alice's apartment building, rolling my suitcase along behind me. It was in a nice neighborhood, but it wasn't the type of place that required being buzzed in, so I strolled into the lobby, ignored the attractive attendant at the front desk, and headed toward the elevator. My heart had quickened its pace, and I could feel myself becoming nervous.
My internal dialogue piped up, "What the hell, man? She's just an old friend who's kind enough to offer a couch for a couple of days. Chill."
I pressed the "4" in the elevator and waited. My mind began to race and, in the few moments it took to reach the fourth floor, I had conjured up at least a dozen different scenarios that all ended in disaster.
"What if she's changed? What if she's nothing like the person I remember? What if I've changed? I'll probably say something completely offensive. I might have to find a hotel in the middle of the night. Fuck!" My stream of consciousness was interrupted by the elevator doors opening, startling me back to reality. As if on autopilot, I walked to her room and raised my hand to knock. For a couple of seconds, I considered turning around and going somewhere else but, then, to my horror, I heard my knuckles collide with the wooden door. It was too late.
After a few tense moments, I heard the chain lock being removed, and then a "click" as the door opened. There she stood, even more attractive than I remembered, in a pair of black slacks and a dark green, button-up blouse. She was barefoot and carrying a glass of red wine. Her apparent relaxedness instantly put me at ease.
"Hi!" She exclaimed. "I was beginning to wonder if you were running late." She flashed a pearly-white smile before turning away and walking further into her apartment. I inadvertently ogled her toned ass as she walked away. Yeah. Inadvertently.
Her voice echoed down the short hallway. "I was just sitting down to rewatch the Fellowship of the Ring. Care to join me?" I'll be damned if this girl didn't have a road map to my heart.
"Of course!" I said, with all the confidence I could muster as I hung my coat on her coat rack and placed my suitcase out of the way. I made my way into the living room, where I saw her sitting down on what appeared to be an expensive loveseat. The coffee table in front of it had a glass of wine directly in front of the empty place on the loveseat. It seemed to be an invitation, so I sat next to her.
We made small talk for a while, flitting from topic to topic, while sipping Merlot and ignoring the movie. After a while, she adjusted herself and leaned over toward me, placing her head on my shoulder. It was a loveseat, after all, and there really weren't that many comfortable positions to be had without cuddling the person next to you. I was mortified initially, but the wine seemed to take the edge off. Eventually, Liv Tyler graced the screen as her character, Arwen.
"God, she's so pretty." Alice said wistfully.
"Yeah, she's pretty. Not really my type, though."
She turned her head to look up at me, incredulously. "What is your type, then?"
I thought to myself "Shit, fuck. I've talked myself into a corner again. Now what the hell am I supposed to say? This is why I don't say shit in front of other people." Of course I knew the answer. I didn't want to tell her the truth, but I didn't want to lie to her, either.
"Uh..." I stammered.
She continued to look at me quizzically, as if I had grown another head, or as if she were trying to figure out which planet I was from. "Well?" She prodded.
I couldn't handle her continued gaze. I had to say something. "You know, I always thought you were very attractive in..." I blurted. That's when I knew I'd had a bit too much wine. I never would've admitted that sober, especially not directly to her. I remember wondering if my abject terror was apparent to her after having said that.
"Really?" She seemed surprised. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
It seemed as if the passage of time slowed to a crawl in that moment. I had no answer, other than cowardice, and no one wants to admit to that.
"I ... I'm not sure." I lied.
She sat up and continued her gaze. Again, time seemed to nearly halt while she looked at me. It felt as if she were analyzing me; as if she were looking past my skull to examine patterns of neural excitation. Her blue, bespectacled eyes were piercing - she was so beautiful that it hurt. My heart seemed to find its way into my throat as I searched for something to say; an apology, maybe, a joke, or anything else to help me find my way out of the hole I had just dug. Fortunately, like all other moments, it eventually ended.
She leaned forward and her lips met mine. Everything around me seemed to melt away, save for her. In that kiss, she was all that mattered to me. Her lips parted, and her tongue found its way to mine. She moved her hand to the back of my neck so that she could pull me closer. I seemed incapable of thought, so I responded instinctively. To my own surprise, I realized that my fingers were running through her auburn hair. I'm not sure how long we were locked together in this seemingly breathless state. I suppose it's difficult to estimate time while one eschews the notion of clocks ever having existed.
I felt a gentle touch on my chest, just below my left collar bone. It tickled a bit as the touch moved toward the top button of my shirt. I felt the button give way almost immediately, and she moved her hand to the next button. At this point, I realized that she had shifted her weight onto her knees, which now rested on the cushion of the loveseat, so that she could lean over me. I took this as a cue and moved my left hand up the outside of her tense, muscled thigh, past her waist, and stopped just under her breast. She arched her back to move her chest forward just enough to meet my touch. The material of her blouse was thin and silky. Her covered breast fit almost perfectly in my hand, and I could feel it heave with each breath. I felt her nipple harden in my palm.