“Do you like the way this feels?” He whispers in my ear, rims his tongue around my neck, every inch of my body dissolves. He grabs both of my hands, puts them behind my head and pushes me back against the wall. Slowly he goes down on me, I shut my eyes. I wonder if heaven does exist, then this is it. That’s another good thing about being with an older man; they’ve learned over the years how to please with a gaze and a smile. After 2 days of avoiding his calls and texts, I needed to show him we were still good. Besides, I need this distraction. Still, I worry about how my past mistakes are going to foul it all up: my future and my relationship. Ah, these thoughts only create stress I don’t need. Then, I find myself lost in the moment. His touch reminds me of the first time we made love. The nervousness of not knowing what you’re getting yourself into. The secrets that you need to keep to yourself until you believe the truth won’t change anything. Yes, I can bring myself to that moment. I look back on that moment, when the plan was only to check out his apartment but before long, my clothes were on the floor.
After three weeks of dinners and exchanging texts and emails, he seemed like everything I ever foresaw myself with. He was passionate about life; he well-traveled and down to earth. He made me feel so comfortable that I shared some intimate, personal details that I usually kept to myself. So, when he invited me to his home for dinner, I accepted, knowing full well that the evening may end up with me in his bed. But that was not my intention as I entered his apartment. I’ve thought I might be able to go around it. Talks to him, get to know him even better. As I took in my surroundings, a feeling of helplessness and horror overtook me. The walls were festooned with ancient weapons of all kinds; knives, swords, scimitars, mace and chain, and hanging from the ceiling were these creepy dolls. I could envision my parents seeing my mangled corpse on the evening news as I had surely entered the domain of a murdering maniac. Beads of sweat began to form all over my quivering body. I heard the door lock click behind me as I turned around to try and escape. His hand touched me gently and led me further inside his house of horrors. I imagined any predator would do the same thing just before ripping their victims’ guts out.
“Take a seat,” he says in a commanding tone. I obey, thinking that if I comply with his wishes, I may get out of here alive.
“Stay put, I’ll be right back,” he says and returns with two glasses of wine in his hands. He sips his but I lay mine on the table and huddle submissively with my hands between my legs. I was lost in confusion. Maybe what I saw in him before was all in my head.
“You’re not drinking your wine.”
“Thanks, but I’m not much of a drinker” I lied. He tried to lighten the moment with a joke I didn’t appreciate.
“You don’t need be to worry; I didn’t put anything in it.” I try to smile but feel more frightened than ever.
“You don’t look comfortable,” he says. There was a challenging look on his face, daring me to lie to him.
“You are beautiful.” He took another sip. I don’t know what to make of this statement. My eyes wander about the room and settles on a vase full of swords. My track record with men had been less than stellar, but is this what I deserved for going to the apartment of a man I barely knew; being skewered on a sword? When I returned my attention back to him, he was standing inches away from me, his hand extended, inviting me to take it. I hesitate but know I cannot refuse this invitation. We stared into each other eyes and the coldness I saw in them before was replaced by a sorrowfulness I did not fully comprehend. Suddenly, he looked younger than his years as he hypnotized me with his eyes of ocean blue. He pulled me close and his lips gently touched mine. I think about pushing away but he is too strong and my will too weak. This man frightened me, yes, but he also excited me in a way I had never known before. I wondered if I was lying to myself. I told myself that I went to his apartment only to get to know him better but what if what I really wanted was actually happening to me now. He lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bedroom. The fear I had felt before melted away, replaced by a burning passion. There was no turning back now.
When we were done, I knew that he couldn’t be the frightful person I imagined he was. He was too gentle, too concerned about me. Yet there was something mysterious about him and I knew that I wanted to get to know this complex man better. He kept a certain part of himself shut away deep inside. This was something we had in common.
Every part of my body begins to tingle as his tongue delves deeper into the recesses of my body. I’m halfway there when he stops and begins kissing his way up my torso until he reaches my lips. Deep in my thoughts, I had forgotten we were still in the shower.
Damn it, I thought.
“Why did you stop?” I ask, wanting to sweet talk him into finishing what he started. Shutting the water off, he gazes passionately into my eyes.
“Let’s finishes this in the bedroom.” He put his hands on my waist and slowly pulled me closer. I jump up and wrap my legs around his body. A trail of water follows us as we make our way from the bathroom to the bedroom. He kicks the door open, gently lowers me onto the bed and climbs on top of me.