Anticipation Ch 02 4

We didn't want to be apart from each other.

Certainly this is not uncommon, for people in a new relationship, but for us the motivation was different.

We were not "in love", in the stereotypical sense. By the way, "in love" is another phrase that I avoided, and as it turned out, so did she.

No, what we wanted was to continue learning about each other. While those in typical relationships wanted to make out and cuddle, Jennifer and I wanted to pick each other's brains and find out what made each other tick.

She lived two towns away, so it was not too big a deal for us to commute, although it was more convenient for her to come to me than the other way around.

Our jobs became agonizing. We naturally thought it best to refrain from contact during our respective work hours, which were absolute torture. We were both almost fired, during that first week of our relationship, because we were unable to focus.

She got off work earlier than I did, so she usually just came to my apartment. I had given her a copy of the key on, like, day three. It wasn't even a question. What was a milestone for normal couples was just a convenient means to an end for us.

She liked my apartment more than her own, anyway, because it was a bit larger, so she had no problem with being the one to commute the most.

She'd let herself in, and it was like she was already at home. The only reason she didn't move out was because, for a while at least, it wasn't worth the hassle of breaking the contract or moving all of her stuff..

Since neither of us were really much for cooking, I would usually bring food home, then we'd eat and talk.

By about the second week, we were actually trying to think of things that we haven't talked about yet, but it turned out there was still plenty.

We had still not yet kissed, but we knew each other more intimately most people could even imagine.

Sex had been a non-issue for about the first two weeks, if you can believe it. I didn't want to have sex with her, and I never even thought about masturbating.

Around week three was when sexuality became a topic of discussion. One of the things I found amazing about her was the fact that she spoke fearlessly, but objectively, on the topic, as did I, but we both gradually regained awareness of our forgotten natural urges.

One could say that we were apprehensive, but it might be more accurate to say that we were exhibiting restraint.

You see, we both had an appreciation for anticipation. We were patient people who wanted to know each other as much as possible. We wanted to appreciate each other, incrementally, increasingly, and gradually.

We had no desire for the explosive passion of hands grasping blindly, tongues dancing, and steamy, wet bodies. At least not yet, anyway.

We agreed that too many people wanted to rush in to sex and pay no mind to so many little things that can be experienced and appreciated.

It was Friday, and neither of us had to work during the weekend, so we were not concerned with going to bed at a reasonable hour.

I don't remember what the last thing was that we had been talking about, but it was maybe around eleven at night, and we had been laying on my bed; fully clothed and on top of the covers, mind you.

I was on the left side, she was on the right, which is the side where I slept, and our heads rested on our arms and pillows as we faced each other.

It may have been about ten or fifteen minutes that we just stared at each other in silence. We were about to enter new territory, and we both wanted it to be a slow walk, so we could enjoy the scenery. Anything to be said was closer to the destination than either of us wanted to be, at the moment.

We just stared into each other's eyes for a while, soon we were inspecting each other's faces... hair... figures.

As far as I was concerned, she was perfection.

As I said, I was a very picky person. When it came to traits a qualities that I preferred or actively disliked, most people were a combination of them, and much more often than not, favored the dislikes.

Finding anyone at all with even three highly preferred qualities, just on the physical side, was a rare thing, and the person would still be tainted by negatives.

She had medium length, straight, black hair. She was only about three inches shorter than me. She had a lean body, but not one that I would describe as skinny.

To me the word, "skinny", carries a sense of fragility with it. I was never really attracted to skinny women. I didn't want to woman that looked like she might break.

Jennifer was not skinny. She was lean, and though I had not actually laid eyes on the them, at that point, I surmised that she was a tidy B-cup. I was of the opinion that anything larger was just in the way.

Still, what I truly found the most attractive about her was the fact that she did not have any piercings or tattoos, did not wear any jewelry, perfume, makeup or dye her hair, and she kept her nails short and unpainted.

Her magnificence was in the fact that I could appreciate her visual beauty, and that she felt no need to hide or embellish it.

Women often claimed they were "accentuating" their best feature. They might as well have just said, don't look at anything but this. The process of accentuating it ends up hiding something else.

Even before I had met Jennifer, in my mind was a sort of a poem:

I do not want to kiss makeup.

I do not want to nibble an earring.

Tattoos obscure my view.

A pierced belly button is a tragedy.

True beauty needs no decoration.

She was the personification of that poem, and she had no desire to hide anything, especially from me. She exuded a humble self-confidence.

I could see that she was sleepy, as was I. We often mentally exhausted ourselves talking to each other. Her eyes closed, but I continued to watch her a bit more.

I carefully moved my body almost to the middle of the bed, so that I could reach out an trace the features of her face. Brush her hair back over her ear. Place fingers on her cheek and move my thumb across the length of her eyebrow.

I forced myself to brake away so that I could pull a blanket, from the foot of the bed, over both of us, and then turn out the light.

I thought to myself, "Tomorrow is going to be such a good day", and then drifted off.