I feel your breath on my skin, but I turn away. Your nearness disturbs me. I seem to feel the heat of you even though I know I can't possibly. Until we touch you're perfect...I'm perfect. No scars, no disappointments. Perfection.
I see you again...you try to catch my eye, as if you want to say something. But I turn away, pretending not to see. I want you, and for now the wanting is enough. It shortens my breath and pulls at things deep inside of me.
We meet in doorways and hallways for weeks. Each time I see you I feel a shock to my heart and my breath stutters. I can barely speak to you, but it doesn't seem to matter. You talk to me anyway. We laugh and talk and part. Each meeting winds the tension in my chest tighter and tighter. I feel as if one more chance meeting, one more innocent comment will make me fly apart into a million pieces. And then for the first time we touch...accidentally. Electric shock causes us to jerk back, and we laugh. A spark you say, and I agree. Then I agree to meet you for a drink. You smile on parting, and I forget to breath...I want you. Do you want me?
Getting ready is almost impossible. I know what I want to happen, but don't truly expect it to happen. And despite my desire I'm uncertain as to how the night will unfold. Taking a deep breath I choose my clothes for comfort and confidence. Tight, but comfortable jeans and a green silk shirt that caresses my body with each move I make. Underneath it all simple black cotton panties and bra. At least they match.
The bar is close and loud, and I don't see you. I'm suddenly terrified. I almost turn to leave but suddenly you are in front of me reaching down to take my hands. And just as suddenly I feel a flash of heat burn away my fear and find the courage to look up at you. All the air rushes out of my chest and I feel as if the people around us are impinging. I want you all to myself.
We find a dark corner and relax into it. Despite the newness and nearness, you seem to have no need to fill the silence with emptiness. A barmaid takes our drink order and returns almost unnoticed by me. All I can really see is you. The weeks of seeing each other has worn the edges of acquaintance off almost into friendship. It's enough to sit here quietly, side by side, almost touching. Almost.
You turn to me and smile. I meet your eyes, but can't smile back. I can't move. You're too close.
You frown uncertainly. I'm not giving you the responses you expect. You cock you head to the side and ask me if everything is ok. Trembling, I barely manage to nod my head yes. But everything isn't ok. It's too much. I want you too much. But I'm too afraid to make a move.
You stare at me for a moment, and then I can see you come to a decision. Suddenly you lean into me, and match your lips to mine. Surprised I still expect you to rush in and capture my mouth. Instead you stop, your mouth a breath away from mine. Staring into your eyes I drown in your pupils, seeing nothing but my own eyes reflected there. As light as a leaf settling onto the surface of a still pool you touch you lips to mine. I can scarcely feel your touch, and yet it is the only thing I can feel at all. I close my eyes and lean into you ever so slightly. You meld your mouth more closely to mine. I can feel a heart racing, and we're so close that I can't tell whether it is your heart or mine. It doesn't matter.
Slowly you sweep your tongue across my lips, teasing along the edges but not yet seeking entrance. Your hands slide into my hair. Its almost as if I can feel your caress along each separate strand of hair. I slide my hands from your chest up to your jaw, despite the cool scent of your after shave, I can feel the slight rasp of stubble along your chin. I move my hands to the back of your neck and press closer, finally opening up to you. Again expecting you to take more control, you seduce instead of plunder. Your tongue slips in and you begin to caress each of my teeth separately.
Every slide, every caress makes my heart beat faster. As we press closer together you edge us deeper into the shadows of our booth. The noise of the crowded bar around us has faded into the background and no longer truly registers with me. Everything is focused on now, your heat and your touch, and the response I don't even want to hide. You slide your hands from my jaw and down my neck and to my shoulders. Your touch is so light it should seem tentative, but it doesn't. Everywhere your fingers trail over the silk of my blouse, my skin burns. I feel like I should be glowing incandescently in the shadows. My hands slide from your neck to your back, tracing the length of your spine I feel you shiver and tense.
Almost beyond my awareness, the throbbing music of the club takes up a deeper tempo. Responding to it, you deepen the kiss even more. Then suddenly you pull back. Before I can react you grasp my hand and pull me out of the safe, dark booth and onto the dance floor. I freeze, I don't know what to do. Then your arms are around me and our bodies are swaying to the music. I can feel the bass line working its way into my heartbeat. Your heartbeat is taking on the same rhythm. I look up into your eyes. In the dimness of the club I can's see their color, only the gleam of your pupils. You pull me closer and start us moving more deliberately. Instead of merely swaying to the music we are propelled by it. Each movement builds the friction between us higher and higher.
Suddenly the music stops and I freeze. Without it's impetus I can't seem to make myself move. You look down at me and I meet your eyes only with difficulty. Despite the relative dimness of the club you pupils have contracted down almost to pinpoints. Slowly you step back, releasing me until you hold only my hand. Your thumb rubs gently along my pulse, causing it to jump again. Feeling my reaction you smile, utterly sure of me and yourself. Walking slowly backwards, you lead me off the floor. I expect you to lead us back to our dark, safe booth but you don't. Turning without releasing my hand you pull me towards the door.
For a moment I panic. I know what you want, or at least I think I do, and I want it too. But nothing until this moment has been too far. We're still perfect to each other. Nothing that has passed has been irrevocable. If we take this walk, alone and end up together, everything will change. I want you, and I want to believe that you want me. I do believe you want me. But until we've gone those last few steps, we haven't gone too far.
Sensing my reluctance, you pull me into the shadows beside the club. Pressing me against the wall you look down at me and smile. This time it is a gentle smile. You can feel my doubts swarming in the air between us. I open my mouth to say something, without knowing what I can say, but you still my lips with a gentle finger. Calming slightly I center myself and gaze up at you. Still smiling you lean down to kiss me and this time you do plunder my mouth. Every bit of your concentration is on our connection and I suddenly feel as if I'm burning from the inside out. Everything before this, every trembling moment has been nothing to the conflagration of the senses that I feel. Things deep inside me tighten and pool in to molten heat and suddenly your holding my entire weight against you chest. And I know you want me, I can feel you against my stomach, full and tight against the front of your jeans. I reach down and brush gently across you. You shudder and draw back.
"If you do that we won't make it home," you say with laughter vibrating under your words.
I look up at you smiling, and at last I believe. "So lets go home then."
I can hardly remember anything else until we reach the door of the apartment building, where we both fumble breathlessly for our keys. Laughing you manage to pull yours out first but fumble it from your trembling fingers and you try to put it in the lock. While you feel around on the ground looking up at me with laughing eyes I pull my key out and open the door. With the light from the lobby shining out you find your key and stand up.
"Your place or mine?"
The impetus once again on me I almost freeze. Then I make the safe choice. "Yours." If someone leaves at the end it will be me. I won't have to watch you walk away.