You awake with a start from a deep slumber at the light coming from the direction of the doorway.
A figure stands at the doorway. You blink, the sleep still attacking your eyes, your mind awhirl from being ripped from a dream.
"It's only me," I say quietly. "It is all right."
"How did you get in?" you ask, confusion dwelling through your brain.
I close the door, shrouding the room again in darkness.
You hear me approach the bed. "I know where you hid the key," I say with a slight giggle.
You feel my weight on the side of the bed.
You blink, still confused, still a little bit afraid. You know I would never hurt you, but finding me here has you with your guard up. "Why...why are you here?" That is the only question you can think of asking, though a million others swirl in your mind.
You feel a hand softly rest on your shoulder. "I heard you had a pretty rough day today."
That question does not expel the confusion; it only adds to it. But you nod. "Yeah. It was pretty shitty."
You feel the weight of the bed shift as I shift. "Do you want to talk about it or anything?"
You shake your head until you realize the folly of the act. I cannot see you. "Not really," you say quietly. I am softly massaging your bare shoulder, my fingers smoothing over it. It feels good. It calms you just a little bit. "I...this is unexpected. It's pretty weird.
"I know," I say. "But you know I will never hurt you. You at least know me that well."
You do. You lay your head on the pillow, face first, my touch sending small thrills up and down your spine.
My fingers find your back, your spine, as I run them up and down your bare back, your bare skin tingling to the sensation of my touch.
"Would you like to cuddle?" I ask quietly.
You nod, again forgetting I cannot see you.
But I know the answer: crawling into bed behind you, wrapping my arms and legs around you in a cocoon.
I place my chin on top of your head. You feel my breath in your hair as my arms wrap around you to protect you from whatever evil came out to bother you today.
"You do know I love you a lot, right?" I whisper.
You nod and gulp. "I guess so. I wish you had knocked, however. Unlocking the door...if it was somebody else, it might be like an invasion."
"I truly am sorry for that," I say quietly. "If you want me to leave..."
"No. I like your touch. A lot."
I hold onto you tightly.
You moved into the apartment two years ago, your very first place. Sure, your parents lived nearby - but it was your own place. It had been your sanctuary.
But from day one, I had been down the hall, living in my own space. I watched you for days, weeks, months, years. Your beauty was like none I had ever seen before.
I had been married before, even somewhat recently. I had never found myself attracted by another woman in my life.
I am unsure what brought those thoughts to mind when seeing you, but your hand unwittingly planted the seeds. They had grown.
We talked many times. I cherished the conversations with you many times.
Yet, each time, somewhere in my mind, I continued to tell myself that you would be the first time I would ever make love with another woman.
We had talked about sex several times recently. Our conversations had grown very intimate, very explicit.
Much to my delight, I had found you also desired to be with another woman. I discovered that you had not been with one before, either. But the desire was there. The desire was great.
A few nights ago, you got a little tipsy over a tub of ice cream and some sweet wine, and with that, your lips became a bit looser.
You told me you had a compelling desire to be with another woman. You admitted that you fantasized about it. You had explicit dreams about it. You watched porn and played with yourself as two women would make love on the screen.
You admitted to me that sometimes, you wished it could be me.
My heart went into my throat upon finding that my secret desires were your hidden ones.
I knew where you hid the extra key to your apartment when you locked yourself out.
