I yelled at you in my head, screamed even. But my lips stayed closed and you never heard. I was staring at you so obviously it made my knees weak. When you finally stopped pretending to have not noticed me, finally closing conversation with whoever had more of your attention than me, and your eyes met mine, I couldn’t help but tell you. I felt I could tell you everything within that one glance. Tell you how much I needed to feel you next to me, to feel your hand on my wrist again, hear you inhale the tension soaked air around me. I clenched my jaw to keep from smiling so wide it would hurt.
Your slight head tilt towards the door, the highlights in your eyes, and your subtle upturned lip spoke volumes. I walked in your suggested direction, nodding to all the insignificant others in the room as I passed. They were practically see-though and you, perfectly present. The door led out of the auditorium and into a wide hallway, glass windows looking out into the gardens on one side, the courtyard on the other.
I walked several paces and turned around, waiting for the only non-transparent person to walk through the door behind me. And there you were, yet again, in full color. But this time, your eyes looked forward, past me. You held out your hand and grabbed mine as you walked by, pulling me behind you, quickly. The force in your hand, the strength of your allurement, and the smell of your cologne hanging in the air behind you nearly sent me over the edge. You had no way of knowing that in that moment, I would follow you anywhere you led me.
I walked behind you down several more hallways, in surprising silence, both my hands wrapped around yours, fingers running up your fit forearm and back into your open palm. When you finally stepped into a room you seemed confident in, you turned around without warning and I stumbled forward into your chest. Your kiss was immediate and addicting. I felt unhinged, unsettled, as your hands traveled down my sides to my bare thighs. Your fingers slid beneath the clingy fabric of my dress as you raised it up to my waist.
I was so involved in your kiss, your lips on mine, the way you politely parted them with your tongue, that I barely noticed you lift me off the ground. My legs instinctively wrapped around you as you carried me to a desk in the center of the room, laying me on my back so gently I ignored the hard surface. I opened my eyes and realized we were in a grandiose, Beauty-and-the-Beast-style library. I glanced at the unlocked door and back to you. You smiled from one corner of your mouth as your eyes followed my gaze. Your slight eyebrow raise, your tiny shoulder shrug. You got off on this, and I knew I wasn’t in charge. That wild feeling rose in my chest. I’ve become powerless and you’re irresistible.
You kissed down my neck and your fingers hooked the sides of my thong, pulling slowly but deliberately. I could feel my pulse quicken, holding every breath for two seconds longer, waiting. As your kisses traveled down my chest to my bare stomach, I panicked, grabbing your face with my hands and disrupting your rhythm. You must have seen the worry in my face, the anticipation of an intimacy I seldom experience, and your eyes softened. You made your way back to me and kissed my forehead, the side of my face, my flushed cheeks, my tense jaw. When your lips finally met mine again, I could feel you coaxing me to relinquish control, to let go. I felt your hands in my hair, pulling me into you, with a balance of force and tenderness that bordered on impossible. Your reassurance calmed me, your strength let me melt. You pull away and look down at me, a soft smile on your face, your hands still in my hair. And in an instant, you know you have me.
You grant me one more kiss, one more lingering moment of full security, before continuing your journey down my body, demanding me to trust you. Your hands back at my sides, your eyes focused on mine. I couldn’t tell if my anxiety was due to the unlocked door, the anticipation of your tongue on my skin, or the way you opened me so completely. You moved slower than the first time, and I appreciated the more gradual approach. Feeling comfortably defenseless, I closed my eyes and relaxed my knees. You kept your calm demeanor, interpreting my relaxation as an attempt rather than a no-holds-bared, green light, and I adored you for it.
I felt your beard brush against the inside of my thigh, your breath on my skin. I felt your tongue slowly taste me, finding where I reacted most and applying more pressure. I felt your fingers slide into me, deeper with each inhale as your tongue moved in small circles against me. My hands moved down to your head completely on their own, my hips raised, my heart pounding.
I lost control of everything in that moment. I heard myself half moan, half cry, before I even realized the sound was coming from me. My toes curled, my abs tensed, and my fingers ran through your hair. I focused on my finger tips, keeping them from pressing on your head, forcing you into me. I wanted all control to be yours, to abdicate any authority, to give in to this fantasy you’ve crafted.
Your fingers moved deeper and brushed upwards inside of me. Your lips on my skin, your velvet tongue taking me in. I didn’t realize my lungs were empty until I saw your eyes open and look upwards, traveling over my body before meeting mine. The colors changing from copper to hazel to that feeling you get when you wake up early on a peaceful day with no agenda. And when I finally inhaled again, you seemed to smile, with your mouth still pressed on my skin. It sent me somewhere so vaguely familiar I thought maybe I had never been there before at all.
My body felt foreign to me, as if borrowed from someone who knew it better. I tried to close my legs, to push your head away, to let you know I couldn’t take it anymore. But your strength and my helplessness drove me as mad as your tongue and wet fingers. You kept the same, slow, frustrating pace through my convulsions, your free hand holding my stomach in place. And when I tightened a final time, my thighs shaking, my voice cracking, I felt a release lasting nearly as long as my muscle spams.
When you finally pulled away from me, my body spent and lifeless, you scooped me off the desk and onto your lap as we sat on the floor. My head rested on your chest, my insides still twitching at the memory of you. I tilted my head back to kiss your neck, to show you I was still alive. Your arms felt like a shelter I had been searching for my whole life, and for the first time I had no desire to question it.