Take a chill pill!
I forced my body to ease the death grip on my martini glass.
Just breathe in and breathe out. This will be fine
. I took another sip. Extra dirty, extra olives; just the way I like.
Mmmm.
I took stock of the situation. My roommates, Andy, Jens, and Roger were currently in a video game showdown with the source of my trepidation: Elle.
What if she says no?
My nervousness crept back.
What if she says YES?
My body warmed.
I allowed my eyes to rest on her across the room. Intent on the game, Elle's brow knit in concentration and her very long blond hair swished when she jerked her controller from side-to-side. At that moment she looked at me, her green eyes dancing with delight. I couldn't help but smile too, my own green eyes shining back.
There I was... Just turned twenty-six years old, practically a professor, attractive, personable... And the thought of making the first move on a woman had me in spasms. To be honest, I'd never had to make the first move with
anyone
.
But I had decided that tonight was the night that I was going to seduce her and, dammit, I was going to give it my best shot!
Little drinky, little bit of fun, dorky revelry, sleep-over, bada-bing, bada-boom, I was going to go for it.
It's going to be ok. You can do this. So, you've been on an all-dick diet for eight years. You're breaking a fast, that's all.
I giggled. All-dick diet. Now that was funny. But really, eight years without another woman's touch and I was
so ready.
"Elle, guys, does anyone else want something to drink? I'm going to make myself another."
I refilled everyone, and the night continued. Despite my jitters, it was a fantastic time. I'd been living with Andy for two years, the other boys almost a year, and Elle had hung out with all of us more than once. We had an easy rapport and always enjoyed ourselves.
I thought that that night would be the last opportunity to make a move before I was firmly in the "friend-zone" with Elle.
We had gotten in the habit of sleepovers when she lived an hour away and would come to visit for school or social events. Every time she came over we laid in my big fluffy bed, which we jokingly call "Heaven," and talked for hours and hours and hours. Then wake up and talk until we had to get up. French toast on "Elle mornings" was something of a tradition.
We discussed school and academia and our pasts and love. That's how I found out she was bisexual. She told me after I mentioned losing my virginity to a girl on my 17
th
birthday. That bit of information had turned my slight attraction into a full-blown crush.
But she'd moved into town this week and I had a feeling that once she was ensconced at school and settled into her place, I was going to go from sleepover friend to "go home at the end of the night" colleague. So... time to act.
At around 2am I started making noises about being tired and ready to go to bed. We were all pleasantly buzzed from our cocktails and Elle and I made our giggly way to my bedroom. I changed quickly into hipster shorts and a bra tank before hitting the bathroom to brush and floss my teeth. Elle was just finishing changing when I came back in the room.
At 5'10" she stood half a foot taller than I; long and lean, with small firm breasts perched above a flat belly. I tried not to stare at her hard nipples beneath the incredibly thin tank top she wore.
Be good, be good, be good!
While she was in the bathroom, I shook my red-brown hair out of its bun and looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Our bodies were very different. Her long, slender frame to my athletic curves. Her light to my dark. Her honeyed skin to my paleness.
But this could work. Well, if she wants it to work.
I hopped in the bed, leaned back on the pillows, and waited for Elle to return. We had been talking around an hour when I asked, "Elle, what does 'four or more on floor' mean?" My words hung between us in the darkness.
"What?"
"When we played that confessions game at Amy's bachelorette party and we had to confess our biggest fantasy in five words or less, you said, 'Four or more on floor.' What does that mean?" My stomach flip-flopped. I could still back out, but I'd set the ball in motion.
What if she meant four limbs on the floor? But that doesn't make sense... there are no 'more' than four limbs.
I held my breath.
"Oh, uhhh..." She laughed nervously. "You know. Like four or more people... on the floor." I remained silent. "Having sex. Like an orgy or something." Uncomfortable silence descended. Well, uncomfortable on her side. I was about to jump off a ledge. I steeled myself.
"Is that a fantasy you just think about, or something you actually want to happen? Because some of my fantasies are ones that will probably happen, others might happen, and then some won't happen."
