We stand outside of her apartment, saying our goodbyes. Her computer is all fixed up now thanks to me. A small favor I typically do for my younger friend. She has flowing dark blond locks and deep blue eyes perfectly accompanied by a lovely hour-glass figure. I've always wanted her and I'm sure she knows it.
She's afraid to give me a chance, fearing to be with me. The reason is simple enough but sets my anger on fire. Her family, the racist scum, would likely disown her were she with someone who wasn't white like her. She doesn't have the slightest hint of racism in her heart, however, she respects her families wishes and sticks with her own race. Even though she's been on her own for four years, she still acts as if they watch her every move. An Asian man like me would get no approval from her family whatsoever. She loves them dearly, despite their obvious flaws.
I've tried asking her out in the past, around the time we met. She was just as beautiful as she is standing in front of me now. She sighed deeply and told me she couldn't. At first I was sure it was her own views. But after we became good friends, I did meet her family one day while at her place. Her father came over to be sure she was doing well on her own. I overheard a conversation between her and her father.
"So what's with your friend?" her father asked, not seeming to care I was in the other room and the walls were paper-thin.
"What do you mean?" she asked. I could tell she already knew what was coming.
"You better not be dating him," he said sternly.
"I'm not seeing him, Dad. He's just a friend." She lowered her voice.
"You know how I feel about that."
"I know."
"It's disgusting. And if I find out you're dating him, I'll never speak to you again. You'd be no better than the rest of those gooks and shoe-shiners, and I'd be sure to treat you as such."
By that time, I'd heard enough and left, getting into my car and leaving. I was furious at what I'd heard. I was probably half-way home when she called me on my cell phone crying her heart out. I ended up going back to her. Crying in my arms, letting my shirt soak up her tears, she explained to me that her father gave her a pretty harsh verbal thrashing. She knew if she ever told him she saw everyone as equals and didn't share his views, that he'd blow a gasket and probably despise her for life for not being proud of being white. Such a shame.
Here we are today, the indecent nearly forgotten and my gorgeous barefoot friend wearing a baby blue spaghetti strap sun dress that makes me want to choke myself with a car door to keep my mind away from wanting to take it off. "So I'll see you later then?" I ask.
She smiles that sweet smile as a light breeze comes by and gently blows the fabric of her dress across her smooth thighs. "Absolutely."
I smile and open my arms to her, inviting her into a hug goodbye. Her sweet smile stays as she rocks to the side a bit then brings herself into my arms, wrapping hers around me. She rests her chin on my shoulder as my arms return her embrace. Her body molds into mine like dough as the wind wisps her hair into my face. The sweet smell of her shampoo comes over me as I give her slender torso a little bit tighter of a squeeze. "You be good, ok?"
"I'm always good," she tells me. I hear the smile clear in her voice. I want to stay here forever. I know I shouldn't. I can't help but feel this way, she has a presence over me greater than Aphrodite would have over any God. I can't resist, as she slowly pulls her head away, beginning to break our hug, my head turns and my lips gently connect with her cheek, just above her jaw.
She pauses, freezing with her hands on my shoulders, my hands on her waist. I grow anxious as I wait for her response. Will she freak out? Kiss me back? Get mad at me? Turn me down nicely? The brief moment seems like an eternity as I wait for her response. I get more nervous as I think of what a stupid mistake I've just made. I tilt my forehead down and place it on the side of her head gently, closing my eyes, sighing.
Slowly, she moves, I feel her head turning against mine, towards mine. Keeping my eyes closed, I feel the soft nuzzle of her nose on my upper cheek and the gentle kiss of her delicate lips on my lower cheek. She holds her lips on my cheek briefly before mine return to her cheek once more, a little further inward now.
Our lips depart from each others cheeks at the same time. She breathes heavily, the air leaving her lungs is almost in a quiver. Excitement? I hope so. I turn my head a little more, hoping this doesn't get me slapped, and place my lips over hers. She doesn't slap me. Instead, one of the hands she has on my shoulder moves back and runs through my hair, pulling me a little closer.
Her lips are softer than silk and taste of Cherry Chap stick against my own. As soon as they touch mine, she pulls her head back, just slightly, then returns those beautiful lips to mine. My hands wrap around her waist a little tighter and pull her a little closer, remolding her body into mine. I could swear I feel her heart beating like a drum against my chest.
Then she stops, pulling her head from mine. It takes me a moment to snap myself out of her daze and open my eyes. Finally I do. She is looking right at me with those soft blue eyes, uncertainty clear on her face. "We shouldn't do this," she tells me. Definitely not what I want to hear.
I look down at her lips and I continue to hold her close to me. They are swollen slightly from our brief kiss and just barely pulled apart. I want to kiss them again, they are beautiful. I'm not sure what to say to her. I know she's right. But, God, I can't help it. I've wanted her from the moment I met her, and I tell her.
Her eyes shut tightly when I tell her and she bites down on her lower lip. When she reopens her eyes, they are slightly moistened and glimmering in the afternoon sun as we stand outside her apartment door. I feel like crap. I've upset her and I know it. "I'm sorry," I tell her in a pathetic attempt to make her feel better. I pull her back to me in a comforting hug. "I didn't mean to upset you."
