So You Say

Even beneath that thick sweater, I can tell that your heart is hammering. It stands to reason, I suppose; this is the third time you've whisked me away for an evening of romance and bliss, after all. There's no doubt an expectation, and I certainly haven't given you reason to temper it. I haven't come out and said it to you, but I'm admittedly quite taken by you.

I underscore that thought by wrapping my arm around yours. I find comfort in allowing you to lead me as you wish, pulled forward by your desires as you guide me through the park. It's been too long since I've been able to yield to the will of another. Bathed in moonlight, you steer me along the path toward your favorite sights as we crush fallen leaves beneath our footsteps. Babbling brooks, sprawling lawns and a pond with a surface as smooth and still as glass all fall under my gaze. Beneath your efforts to exude strength and confidence, I see an appreciation for serenity within you. I haven't told you yet, but this is far more important to me than power. There's no end of that for the taking.

I hesitate to make mention of it, but I'm still analyzing you. Your presentation yields to your true thoughts, feelings and habits as you grow comfortable being near me, and I drink them all in. This is what I crave--a glimpse of your true self beneath the veneer you attempt to sell me. My interest is in who you will be years from now, long after fatigue has caused that veneer to crumble and fall away. I'm looking for a life partner, after all. I've made no secret of my intentions and, for better or worse, you claim to be looking for the same. Much of my excitement to tear through your facade like wrapping paper on a present is born of my desire to find truth in that assertion.

Despite the beauty you've shown me, you seem disappointed. I suppose I can understand your frustration. You've once again catered to my desire to meet beneath the stars rather than the sun, and you're not accustomed to life in a world so quiet and dark. I suspect that it unsettles you, and you likely worry that I'm feeling something similar. I do my best to assure you that the reality is quite contrary. Instead of cold and empty, I see a world that is pristine and undisturbed. Whether the works of nature or humanity, I find it easier to appreciate what I see without the constant distraction of competing with roving bands of other onlookers for the opportunity. You seem surprised by my stance, but you also seem content with it. I wonder if what I'm seeing in your relaxing shoulders and gentle sigh is mere relief or an appreciation of my perspective. I also wonder if I can make you appreciate my world in the same way you've made me appreciate yours.

I sense an opportunity. With a shy smile and a coquettish glance, I subtly suggest moving our evening together somewhere warmer. It doesn't take you long to understand my intent. After the shock of realization fades, you waste no time in accepting my proposal and begin leading the way to your home. I'm relieved, though I can't help also feeling guilty. Even with as often as I find myself doing it out of necessity, I have a strong distaste for manipulation. I would much rather lay myself bare before you and accept your judgment, but life is rarely so simple. There's much that you wouldn't immediately understand, and you would surely be disturbed to learn it without proper context. Judging by how carefully you still choose your words when answering questions about yourself, I know that you feel the same fear.

I slowly feed you information about myself the same way you do with me, allowing comfort in your acceptance of me to be my guide as I let my own veneer crumble. Your eyes light up with excitement with each fragment that falls away and gives you a glimpse of the true self beneath. Slowly but surely, we draw closer to laying ourselves bare with each cautiously answered question and every new curiosity. I can feel your fear of saying one word too many and giving too much away at once. I don't have the words to ease that fear, but I understand it. It's ultimately unavoidable, a moment in which a truth must be revealed and you'll have to trust me to patiently listen as you explain and understand once you've finished. My own such moment is coming, as well, after all. For your part, at least, I doubt you need to worry. I don't want to give myself too much hope too soon, but I've done this dance too many times to count. I know what I'm seeing in you, and I have reason to believe that I've finally found what I'm searching for. More than that, I'm starting to believe that you've found what you're looking for in me.

We reach your front door, and I try to keep my nerves calm as I politely wait at the threshold. Your voice and expression betray your excitement as you invite me in, and I smile as I repress a sigh of relief. It's such a small thing to you that it escapes your notice entirely, but for me, your acceptance makes all of the difference. I sit next to you on your sofa and the words between us begin to flow along with the wine. There's initially tension in the air, our words weighted by pretense as we try to ignore the reason we've come here. As the wine lowers our inhibitions, however, it becomes easier to take comfort in the thought that it will come in time. There's no need to rush. Time is something we have no end of.

Our conversation gradually returns to our attempting to understand each other, though that's much easier than it has been before now. Our compliments of questions concerning the mundane have long since been exhausted. Instead of asking about daily lives and career goals, our interests have taken a turn toward the intimate with talk of desires and boundaries. I can almost hear your heart flutter every time my responses align with your desires. Mine does the same when your reactions align with my expectations. We turn our thoughts toward the future, and you again express a desire for a partner for life. I'm surprised when you say that you could see yourself with someone like me forever. You whisper such sweet words to me, but they're soured by my doubts. I wonder, do you truly understand what you offer me? How can you say such a thing so casually? Do you understand how long forever truly is? That must be it. Of course you don't understand... you couldn't. I won't hold it against you.

Your heart suddenly begins hammering. It seems that the wine has inspired something beyond intimate conversation in you as your eyes begin to linger on my neck and the top of my blouse. I smile, charmed by your hesitation. I bring our lips together and sigh, the taste of the wine on your tongue far sweeter than my own. Your hands struggle to remain gentle as they caress my body, but I notice that your resolve falters for a moment when your grip on my breast becomes as hard as iron. I hear your breath catch, and I know that you fear my reaction... that you've gone too far. I wish I had the words to tell you how long it's been since I've felt needed more than wanted, or how your touch makes me want to yield to it entirely, or that you couldn't possibly hurt me in the way you fear. Instead, I carefully bite your lip and moan into your mouth as I place my hand on top of yours and press harder. Judging by how quickly you lift me from the sofa and start leading me to your bed, I trust that you understand.

In spite of your excitement, your fingers are quick and nimble as they work the buttons on my blouse. I barely have time to undo your belt before I feel your hand on my bare skin, sliding around my back and unclasping my bra. You push it out of the way and rush to take my nipple into your mouth, and I feel something like electricity run through my skin as your tongue dances over it. I want to keep analyzing you, now more than ever as passion and desire drive you to show yourself to me entirely unfiltered. That same desire has inspired haste in you, however, and moments fly past me almost too quick to notice. By the time I've gotten my arms out of the sleeves of my blouse, I already feel the silk beneath my skirt sliding over my hips and down my thighs. Before I can pull my bra away, I feel my legs part and your tongue again sends electricity coursing through me. I can only tangle my fingers in your hair and pull you deeper into me as your iron grip takes hold of my hips, my careful analysis quickly becoming a distant memory.

I finally manage to notice something new about you when my body begins to twitch and shudder. You notice this, and the touch of your tongue becomes gentle and nurturing as you wait patiently for me to recover. You seek to please me. As much as experience demands that I remain cautiously skeptical, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to write your behavior off as pretense. I feel your pulse racing through your skin. I know that your needs have only grown as you've seen to mine, and I feel the intensity behind even your most loving touch. This isn't restraint. This is simply your natural state of being, to give even as you receive. I pull my fingers from your hair and carefully cradle your cheek in my palm as I lift your eyes to meet my gaze. I've made my decision, and I'm willing to believe that you've made yours, as well.

I tell you without words that it's time, gently pulling until you begin climbing your way back up my body. I can't help giggling at the sight of your enthusiasm as you stand and begin stripping away your clothes. I barely have time to slide out of my skirt before I hear the tearing of foil and the pungent fragrance of latex reaches my nose, and I abandon my thought of doing the same with my leggings. With how quickly you find yourself on top of me, I doubt you mind. I'm a little surprised by how quickly and shamelessly I spread my legs for you, but you again seem unbothered. If anything, you seem excited that my eagerness matches your own.

You quickly sink into me, and shame again yields to sensation as my voice fills the room. Again, you seem excited. As your hips draw back and prepare to draw my voice from my throat again, your lips find it first. As you fill me again, I just barely manage to focus enough to feel anything above my waist. Your lips press against the side of my neck, and your tongue again dances over my skin and sends tingles rippling through me. I lean back and allow you to coax my voice out, again taking your head into my hand and pulling you into me. My moans reach your hips, and you drive yourself into me with steadily growing strength. Again, I notice a moment of hesitation, but your concern is quickly shattered by my pleas that you don't stop. I push my hips forward to meet yours, and I feel a muffled groan into my neck as much as I hear it. You take your attention from your kisses and put it into your hips, and I can feel your mouth against my skin where it came to rest before being forgotten. Your teeth gently press into my flesh, and I quietly laugh at the irony.

I think I noticed how close you were before you did. Even before your groans became louder and your hips began thrusting madly, I could feel your heart pounding in your chest as it pressed against my own. The heavy thudding was as loud in my ears as it no doubt was in yours, and even the sound of blood rushing through your veins became deafening. Even through the overwhelming sensations you're sending in waves through my entire body, I manage to spare a thought for the moment in which I finally have to trust you to listen as I take my turn to explain. It's nearly time. Your racing pulse tempts me, but I occupy myself with the feeling of you inside me as you desperately drive us both closer to climax. The conversation will be difficult enough already, and there's no reason to harm my chances of success by being hasty.

Your body goes rigid, and I feel latex swelling within me. I savor this moment, the precious few minutes in which you finally find satisfaction in your time with me that slowly fades into comfort. I hold you close as I wrap my legs around your waist, and I continue to hold your head against my shoulder as your muscles begin to relax and your breathing slows. I want you to have a moment of serenity to remember, something you can value as much as the stillness and beauty of the park. The memory you're creating in this moment will speak volumes of the peace I offer you along with the difficulty you'll inevitably find in accepting it. You'll hear my words and you may even be willing to believe them, but this moment will reach you in a way that my promises never could. I want you to bypass the fears I've put behind myself, the endless worrying over if my words are hollow. I want you to know for yourself that what I say is true and what I promise is real.

Your pulse finally slows, nearly as still and calm as the surface of the pond. You continue to rest your head against me, your neck laid before me as bare as your body and soul. It's a sign that you trust me. As I bring my lips to your neck and begin to press my teeth into it, the time finally comes for me to trust you, as well.