I should be going.
As soon as I open my eyes, I’m going to grab my underwear from that chair by the window, and my shorts from under the bed, and my shirt from wherever I tossed it — wherever that is.
My shoes are by the front door, I think. Loafers with tassels. Why did I even do that? Oh right, because I couldn’t find my flip-flops this morning.
Shit. I should go.
But I think I’ll stay a little longer.
I hope you don’t mind. This is usually the part where we both get redressed and stutter through mindless small talk. So what are your plans later? How long are you in town for? What do you do, again? These are just things to be said so that we don’t have to face our own indignity in front of someone who just discovered how [and who] we really are. But we’re not doing that right now. I mean, we might do it eventually. But right now, you’re laying on your back and I’m laying on my stomach and half of our bodies are overlapping — all the way down to our feet and all the way up to our cheeks — and you are warm.
You don’t smell like anything but your own skin and I like that. I inhale it and I’m the only person in the world inhaling it. Being here with you makes me the only person in the world doing a lot of things and that makes me want to stay, among other reasons.
Every time I have the compulsion to go, it feels like a struggle. I’ve wanted you for so long and now that it’s happened, I don’t want to press my luck. Because even though you’ve got your shortcomings (like your shitty job and your exboyfriend baggage), you are extraordinary to me. And being here with you feels like I’m being rewarded for something I don’t deserve. So leaving before I overstay my welcome feels like the right move.
It goes without saying that the sex was incredible. This makes four times, right? Four times since the first time a year or so ago. Remember when I used to visit you at work just so I could kiss you outside on the street? That seems so far away from this moment. And just so you know: I’ve never lingered like this before and I hope you don’t think I’m clinging. Usually, if I fuck someone under similar circumstances, I bail immediately or practically shove them out the door. One time, I told a guy that he had to leave because my mom was on her way. It was eleven at night and my mom doesn’t even live in the same city as me.
You bury your nose into my neck and kiss me there. I consider guiding your mouth up to mine, but right now, I just want to feel you wanting me. It’s easy to fake yourself into thinking someone’s into you when you’re giving direction. Then, you glide your hand down the prairie of my back and I open my eyes just enough to see through my eyelashes. It was overcast this morning on the drive over here (I called it, cloudy with a chance of shame). But now, judging by the dull glow behind the window, it feels like the clouds only came out to keep us in bed together. If it were sunny, I might be more inclined to leave. And I don’t want to leave just yet.
Slowly, you lift your head and raise yourself up onto your elbow. You look down at me with sleepy eyes and smile. We stare at one another you touch me with your fingertips along my jaw, from my ear to my chin. I wrap one arm around your waist and I bring my palm against the side of your face. Then I kiss you and roll you onto your back. I plant my hips into you and you rock you head back over the pillow. I lift my torso with both arms into a push-up position so I can see all of you. Then, I shift down and lay my head on chest. We do all of this without saying anything. But then again, I don’t think I could if I wanted to.
The truth is, I’ve pretended other guys were someone like you. I’ve faked this feeling before. I’ve acted my way through scenarios that weren’t nearly this genuine or comfortable. Even your breathing is perfectly paced. I slow mine to catch up with yours until we’re in sync. We rise and fall together. I exhale soft, steady streams form my nose and mouth and feel you doing the same above me. From your chest, your nipples look like little pink Sherpa huts. I look up towards you and your eyes are closed. Part of me wishes you would open them and look at me, but I’m glad you aren’t. I don’t know how I look right now and I’m pretty sure my perspective is better than yours.
I should probably be going, right?
I should go.
But what If I miss the inside of your mouth?
The shape of your ass?
Your skin?
What if I spend the rest of the day thinking about this?
What if I spend the rest of my life thinking about this?!
Better not take that chance.
Better hold you like you need it.
Shit. I should go.
But I think I’ll stay a little longer.
I hope you don’t mind. This is usually the part where we both get redressed and stutter through mindless small talk. So what are your plans later? How long are you in town for? What do you do, again? These are just things to be said so that we don’t have to face our own indignity in front of someone who just discovered how [and who] we really are. But we’re not doing that right now. I mean, we might do it eventually. But right now, you’re laying on your back and I’m laying on my stomach and half of our bodies are overlapping — all the way down to our feet and all the way up to our cheeks — and you are warm.
You don’t smell like anything but your own skin and I like that. I inhale it and I’m the only person in the world inhaling it. Being here with you makes me the only person in the world doing a lot of things and that makes me want to stay, among other reasons.
Every time I have the compulsion to go, it feels like a struggle. I’ve wanted you for so long and now that it’s happened, I don’t want to press my luck. Because even though you’ve got your shortcomings (like your shitty job and your exboyfriend baggage), you are extraordinary to me. And being here with you feels like I’m being rewarded for something I don’t deserve. So leaving before I overstay my welcome feels like the right move.
It goes without saying that the sex was incredible. This makes four times, right? Four times since the first time a year or so ago. Remember when I used to visit you at work just so I could kiss you outside on the street? That seems so far away from this moment. And just so you know: I’ve never lingered like this before and I hope you don’t think I’m clinging. Usually, if I fuck someone under similar circumstances, I bail immediately or practically shove them out the door. One time, I told a guy that he had to leave because my mom was on her way. It was eleven at night and my mom doesn’t even live in the same city as me.
You bury your nose into my neck and kiss me there. I consider guiding your mouth up to mine, but right now, I just want to feel you wanting me. It’s easy to fake yourself into thinking someone’s into you when you’re giving direction. Then, you glide your hand down the prairie of my back and I open my eyes just enough to see through my eyelashes. It was overcast this morning on the drive over here (I called it, cloudy with a chance of shame). But now, judging by the dull glow behind the window, it feels like the clouds only came out to keep us in bed together. If it were sunny, I might be more inclined to leave. And I don’t want to leave just yet.
Slowly, you lift your head and raise yourself up onto your elbow. You look down at me with sleepy eyes and smile. We stare at one another you touch me with your fingertips along my jaw, from my ear to my chin. I wrap one arm around your waist and I bring my palm against the side of your face. Then I kiss you and roll you onto your back. I plant my hips into you and you rock you head back over the pillow. I lift my torso with both arms into a push-up position so I can see all of you. Then, I shift down and lay my head on chest. We do all of this without saying anything. But then again, I don’t think I could if I wanted to.
The truth is, I’ve pretended other guys were someone like you. I’ve faked this feeling before. I’ve acted my way through scenarios that weren’t nearly this genuine or comfortable. Even your breathing is perfectly paced. I slow mine to catch up with yours until we’re in sync. We rise and fall together. I exhale soft, steady streams form my nose and mouth and feel you doing the same above me. From your chest, your nipples look like little pink Sherpa huts. I look up towards you and your eyes are closed. Part of me wishes you would open them and look at me, but I’m glad you aren’t. I don’t know how I look right now and I’m pretty sure my perspective is better than yours.
I should probably be going, right?
I should go.
But what If I miss the inside of your mouth?
The shape of your ass?
Your skin?
What if I spend the rest of the day thinking about this?
What if I spend the rest of my life thinking about this?!
Better not take that chance.
Better hold you like you need it.
Better graze your lips with the backs of my fingers.
And then you say, "Don't leave."
So I stay.
And then you say, "Don't leave."
So I stay.
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