Wednesday, 23 November 2016

It was still there

Damn it. Damn him.

Damn the visions of sweat trickling down my back as I imagined pinning him down, ripping his clothes off and riding him violently right there on that solid, cold table. In the middle of that over sanitized eating house I glanced over the heads of people politely nodding approval of their thick pieces of steak and tinkling wine glasses against each other. Acting normal...

Nothing about this was normal!

My thudding temples were not normal, the way my breath was caught and tightening my chest; my nipples standing at attention rubbing roughly against the fabric of my top. Was. Not. Normal. He caught my fingers as I tried to pull them away from his grip, all the while staring me dead in the eyes. He knew he HAD me. His challenging gaze was testament to the fact that this...whatever it was we were trying to deny was so far from over there was only hell to pay by fighting it.
That same breath I had still caught in my lungs was starting to burn and in spite of myself erupted into a dramatic bout of hiccups- my most refined romantic moment of recent memory.

He almost threw my beer in my face as he tried to still hold my hand, pat my back and signal to the waiter for a glass of water. It was comedic gold! I burst into laughter as he burst into laughter that only subsided after we started getting curious glances from those steak engorged heads around us. After a couple of seconds more of glee we settled back into propriety.

“I’m sorry”, he whimpered. “Love, look at me, I’m sorry”
Now it was his turn to deal with his own tear-filled eyes. YEAAAAAAAH! You must suffer too I whispered as my ego did a full Twerk session in time with the beat of the eatery’s piped music. So look at him I did, deeply. His anguish excited me. Made me throb ,wet.

I loved knowing that as much as he affected me the denial of my affections left him in a place of desolation. For him it was ungovernable that he be the cause of another’s consternation. The man just feels too much, probably his deepest curse and most attractive feature in one go.

We moved to less intense talk and tried to claw our way out of what was very obviously a transformative moment in our dalliance. It was hopeless and futile. He asked if I was ready to leave, my deep eye-roll must have signified that I was ready to leave long before my sexy hiccup session. He settled the bill and we made our exit. We made a quick stop by the group of his friends that we had left outside each of whom made a great show of standing and kissing the hand of Nemesis’ queen in all her gym finery and we were on our way.

As he pulled out of the parking, I shot straight from the hip and displayed the tact that I have honed over the years and become quite famed for...
“Is there someone else? Are you cheating on me or using me to cheat on someone?”
He stopped the car and turned the light on.  Releasing a sigh as long as it was unnecessary.
“No, there is no one else. It is only you,” he said: way too calmly for my liking. It felt rehearsed
“Prove it to me” I shot back hotly
“I will, if you’ll just give me the chance to. I miss you”
(at this point that stupid little body part he had triggered with his touch earlier started its deception of all the sensible resolve my body was projecting)

Come on! I missed him too. Badly. Not just his presence, his soothing voice and corny ass jokes. I miss his....uhmmmm cooking. Yes I missed his cooking.

The rest of the trip home was in silence. Not a peep from him, the radio or me. As we got to my place I responded “OK, prove it”. Now this is not a small man. I almost burst out laughing again as he full on dived on me while sitting beside me thanking me for the chance as well as promising to never give me reason to doubt him again. He called me after he got home and showered and was in bed. Like teenagers we were on the phone till the late hours of the early morning. 

Would I regret this?

We’ll see