I take a shower and throw my hair into a messy French braid. I slip into
a sexy pair of underwear, but other than that I don't dress up. I skip
the bra, opt for an old "Star Wars" t-shirt and a pair of my comfiest
jeans. It won't take much to seduce him. I already have the perfect
set-up. We've made out before. I gave him my number. I wonder who else I
gave my number to that night? It doesn't matter. This will be easy.
I
head to the beach and, for nostalgia's sake, I bring along the glow
stick kites. I should ask Clark to come and fly kites with me again. I
miss him. I miss Jahan. I miss David and Alice. I can't let myself miss
them. I'm supposed to be heartless. Heartless people can't miss someone.
Especially since it is their own fault that those people are gone.
When
I get to the beach, I feel a delicious shiver crawl down my spine at
the memories of the last time I was here. I think fondly of that first
one night stand. Well, my only one night stand. As far as I know. Every
time I've passed out drunk, I've woken up clothed and alone. Totally
beside the point of course. I wonder if I'll ever run into that handsome
fellow again.
Adam is easy to spot, besides the fact that he is
the only one on the beach. He is gorgeous and trim, wearing a
"SpongeBob" t-shirt and board shorts. He is also an Albino
African-American man with the most beautiful eyes and long ivory
dreadlocks, the tips of which are dyed a dark purple. He smiles at me
and waves. He jogs up to me and I can't help but notice how fit he is.
He glows in the moonlight, a shining pearl of a man. When he comes
closer I can see that he is also quite tall. Standing a whole head
higher than myself. How could I have forgotten him?
"Abra?" He asks, though I can tell that he knows its me.
"Adam?" I ask, winking. "Its nice to meet you when I'm not drunk."
He laughs, a deep and rich baritone laugh. He smiles again.
"To be fair, I was a little over the edge myself that night. I'm just glad you agreed to meet up with me."
"My
pleasure, of course." We set up the blanket and he helps me bury the
kite handles in the sand. After we are settled on the blanket, I pour us
some Bailey's into a couple plastic cups. We touch them to each other
and say cheers, before taking a healthy swig. I feel the alcohol warming
every inch of me, until I feel like I am filled with sunshine. It makes
sense in this context; I am the sun and he is the moon. I caress his
arm and smile up at him.
I lean against him and we sit quietly
for a little while, just watching the kites dancing. I don't really know
what to say to him. I'd like to skip the awkward small talk and go
directly to what we clearly both want, but I am unsure how to take that
step.
"I've never done this before," I admit, looking up into his
pale eyes. This isn't entirely true, but he doesn't need to know that.
"I
suppose we are supposed to make small talk and call it a first date. Or
we could just call it a date where we skip the small talk and go
straight into the sex." He smiles at me and then kisses me on the lips.
He tastes like the alcohol and something sweeter. I don't stop his hands
from roaming. I don't stop him from pulling at my clothes.
He
kisses me breathless. I kiss down his ivory neck and help him take off
his shirt, revealing gorgeous muscles and creamy skin. I push him back,
so that he is lying on the blanket, and I just look at him. He is so
captivating. I don't think I've ever met someone as beautiful as he is.
I stop all together and a frustrated moan escapes his lips. I smile, wickedly.
"Don't
you want to wait just a little longer?" I say. I realize that things
are getting a little too repetitive for my tastes. I can't just hop from
bed to bed, or in this case beach spot to beach spot. I need something
to switch it up, change the feel of things.
"No," he moans,
trying to pull me down on top of him. I oblige and straddle him, but
refuse to move, though he tries to move my hips. I smile again and kiss
him hard.
"Let's play a game." I say.
"What kind of game?" He asks. He looks aroused and intrigued.
"We
don't sleep together tonight, but we do sleep together soon. If we wait
until our second date, I promise it will be worth your while. Whatever
fantasy you have, I promise to fulfill it on our second date, if you
agree that we don't have sex tonight."
He raises one white eyebrow and looks at me quizzically.
"Any fantasy?" He asks, skeptically.
"Any." I say and kiss him again. He moans, but he doesn't try to change my mind.
"So
what do you suggest we do tonight then?" He asks. He sits up so that I
am in his lap and my legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds me
close like this and rests his forehead against mine.
"Be my boyfriend and I'll tell you." I say, winking and kissing his nose. He smiles and kisses my eyes.
"Okay, I'm game. I haven't had a steady girlfriend in a few months."
"Well, lover, let's go back to my place and I'll fix us a late dinner." I kiss him again. And again.
"A very late dinner." he says, glancing at his watch. "What are we going to have?"
"What do you like?" I say.
"Just
about anything really. I'm not picky." He has lifted up my shirt and he
kisses the place between my breasts. He lightly drags his teeth across
my chest and I shiver. I feel him move under me.
"Stop." I say, giggling. "Next time, I promise."
He
sighs and we disentangle ourselves. We gather up the blanket, the
bottle of Bailey's and the kites. He follows me back to my place in his
beat up Ford.
Once we are back at my place I begin to fix us
something to eat. I fry up some green tomatoes, some turkey bacon and
toast several slices of thick homemade potato bread. Once these things
are done I melt some provolone cheese onto the bread and add some crisp
romaine lettuce. I haven't made "fancy" BLT's, as I call them, since
David moved out. I put a very thin layer of honey mustard on mine and a
thin layer of regular mayo on Adam's. With the sandwiches, I serve some
sweet potato French fries and a small slice of store bought chocolate
pie.
I pour us a couple glasses of coconut milk and set the
coffee table in front of the couch. Once everything is laid out, I turn
on some music and light a couple small candles. I turn out all the
lights and then lead Adam to the coffee table where we sit cross-legged
across from each other.
"What do you think?" I ask, after he takes a big bite of his sandwich. He smiles while he chews and nods.
"It delicious." He says, once he has swallowed. "Where did you learn this recipe?"
"I
made it up." I say, munching on a sweet potato fry. "My ex was tired of
the same old, same old. So I started trying to think of things he'd
like."
"And he still left you, knowing you could cook like this?" He looks surprised that anyone would leave me on purpose.
"I'm sure his wife can cook just as well as I can. I don't cook very often anymore though. I usually go out to eat."
"Do you miss him?" He asks, putting his sandwich down and looking at me intently.
"Some
days, yes. When I wake up alone in the mornings, or when I am doing
something that we used to do. On days like that, I miss him more than I
could explain."
He nods and takes another bite of his sandwich. I
am glad that he doesn't say anything to comfort me. I've had my fill of
empty words of sympathy. He does look at me with a sad understanding in
his eyes and, every once in a while, he will reach out and stroke my
cheek. We enjoy our dinner and then play a game of Scrabble. He beats
me, twice. We wash the dishes together and he wipes soap suds all over
my face. We laugh and then slow dance in my dining room to a sad
Japanese song.
At the end of our evening together, I thank him for everything and give him a kiss goodbye.
"When can I see you again?" he asks.
"Whenever
you want to." I say, smiling. For the first time, its a genuine smile. I
haven't felt this good since I was with Clark.
"What about my fantasy?" He says, winking at me.
"What do you want?" I ask, leaning against the wall next to the door.
"You dressed up as Princess Leia and me as Han Solo." He looks pointedly at my t-shirt and then back up at my face.
"Leia as Jabba's slave? Or just regular cinnamon roll hair style Leia?" I say, laughing.
"Jabba's
slave. Metal bikinis are so sexy, don't you think?" He winks again,
kisses me again and waves as he heads down the stairs to the parking
lot. I lean against the doorframe and watch him drive off. He waves out
the window of his car at me.
I sigh as I close the door. I keep
finding nice, understanding, guys who make me wish I could just settle
down with them. Maybe I should start trying to pick up jerks? I ponder
this as I slip into some fuzzy pajama bottoms and another old t-shirt. I
slip into bed, Snuggles jumping up and then curling up beside me.
As I fall asleep, I try to think of where I can go to find a Princess Leia slave girl outfit.
After
work I begin my quest to fulfill Adam's fantasy. The outfit turns out
to be less difficult to find than I originally thought. I go to the
"Theatrics and Time Trips" store downtown where I am able to find the
exact outfit for relatively cheap. All the guys in the store look as
though they are about to drool as they watch me go to the dressing room
to try it on. I laugh, inwardly, at how many of these guys I could get
to sleep with me just by stepping out of the dressing room. They all
watch as I go up to purchase the outfit and the cashier can barely
stammer out my total.
I don't travel far, however. I go to the
"Garden of Eden" adult store, down the street, and purchase a collar and
chains to complete the outfit. The only thing left to do is style my
hair, which I'll wait to do until I have heard from Adam. If he is a
typical man, he will wait three or four days to call me. Savoring the
sweet agony of waiting. Or, if he can't stand the waiting he'll call me
tonight or tomorrow.
On cue, as I am driving home, he calls me.
"Can I see you tonight?" he asks. I can hear the excitement in his voice.
"But I haven't gotten the outfit yet!" I lie, smiling at myself in the rearview mirror.
"You couldn't find one so that we could meet up later?"
"Well, I suppose I might be able to. What time do you want to meet up?" I enjoy dragging it out a little bit.
"Ten like we did last night, if that works for you."
"I suppose that will be alright." I say, sounding a little put out.
"If that doesn't work I can wait until tomorrow, I suppose. I'm just so excited to see you, girl."
I
giggle at the wheedling tone in his voice. I am truly wicked. I would
never have made David wait, unless I was sick and sometimes not even
then. But I have entered a new world where sex can be used as a weapon
and I am the one wielding the proverbial whip.
"Well, if you
truly don't care, let's wait until tomorrow. I need time to perfect the
hairstyle and find a costume." I can hear him suppressing a moan, but he
doesn't argue.
"If you want, I can bring dinner." He says. "I'd hate to make you work too hard."
"That would be lovely. I promise to be the perfect slave girl for you."
We
don't talk much longer before I arrive home. I carry in my parcels and
go into the bathroom to start on my Leia hairstyle. Once I think I have
it, I pop in "Return of the Jedi", my favorite out of the original
trilogy, and make some popcorn. I curl up on the sofa and lust after
Luke and Leia.
I realize, with excited anticipation, I've never
done anything like this before. I never dressed up for David. He could
never stand for me to be clothed long enough to have dressed up. Clark
never expressed any desire for me to play act, either. As to Jahan, she
was new to sex as it was, without adding any extra kink to it. I find
that I am just as excited by the prospect as I imagine Adam is.
To
ease my excited energy, I do several loads of laundry and clean the
apartment. I want everything to be perfect for him. I fix some lemon
pepper salmon, a small vanilla mocha tiramisu and an artichoke and
spinach salad, which I pack up to be re-heated tomorrow. I download the
soundtrack to "Star Wars", the original trilogy, to a CD, and make it
easily accessible.
With everything prepared I take a bath in rose
water and oatmeal. I give myself a manicure/pedicure and I wear an
avocado mask to bed. In the morning I wash my face and fix the little
spots where my hair came out of its styling during the night. I have a
light breakfast of poached eggs and toast. I go to work, feeling a
little silly with my hair in Leia fashion, but it can't be helped. It
would take to long to fix it after work.
On my lunch hour I call
Adam and we agree to meet at my place around seven. When he mentions
bringing dinner I tell him that I've already taken care of it. The only
thing I ask of him is to come dressed for the part.
Everything is
ready when I get home, except for me. I spritz a little sweet perfume
all over my body before changing into the outfit. I warm up dinner, turn
on the music and complete a few finishing touches. At seven, I am ready
for Adam in every sense of the word. I am so excited I feel as though I
will jump out of my skin.
I look at the clock at eight and
wonder where the hell he is. This is his fantasy, shouldn't he be on
time? Or maybe this is part of the fantasy he didn't share?
At
nine, I begin to worry, thinking maybe he has been in some sort of
accident. I text him, but receive no reply. I try calling, but only get
his voicemail.
At ten, I begin to get angry. He could at least
have called and told me something else came up. He could've at least
done that much. Unless he was in a really bad accident. My feelings
switch between anger and worry for this man I've been dating for three
days.
At eleven, I give up and put the food back in the fridge. I
turn off the music, change out of my outfit and take down my hair. I
clean everything up from when I was warming the food and I put away the
chains and costume.
At midnight, I fall asleep on the couch; torn between being furious and worried.
At
one, I wake up to knocking on my door. Sleepily, I rub my eyes and
stumble to the door. I look through the peephole and see Adam leaning
against the door with his head down. I can't tell if he is in costume or
not. I almost don't open the door, but I am angry enough to want to
confront him. I fling the door open so that he stumbles and almost falls
into the apartment. As soon as he falls past me I can smell the alcohol
on him.
"Where the hell have you been?" I demand, shutting the door.
"I've
been waiting to rescue the fair princess." He says, drunkenly. He
stumbles and lands face first on the couch. He is dressed in full Han
Solo regalia. I stifle the urge to laugh at him. He makes such a comic
picture dressed like that and drunker than Winston Churchill. However, I
don't know what he is like drunk and the last thing I want is him
becoming violent.
"Adam, we were supposed to meet up at seven! It's one in the morning now. Where have you been?"
"I
was out with friends." he says, attempting to lift himself off the
couch and failing miserably. I help him sit up. When he is upright I see
lipstick all over his shirt and his face. On his neck is a mark like a
hickey. I suddenly reach a new level of infuriated.
"I have been waiting for you for six hours to fulfill your fantasy and you were out with another woman?"
"Women."
He corrects. The man has balls, I'll give him that. I could kill him.
I'm surprised that it actually hurts my feelings that he was off
cheating on me.
"And were they worth it?" I ask.
"I tried
to get away, Abra, I really did." he says, pitifully. Without warning he
bursts into tears and is on the floor clinging to my leg. "I'm so
sorry, please forgive me. Don't leave me. I couldn't stand it."
"Get off of me." I say, shaking my leg. "You should've thought about all that before you went out with your 'friends'."
He
stands up and kisses me sloppily. I pull away and he grabs my arms,
pulling me closer to him. He tries to kiss me again, but I move my head
so that he grazes my ear. He starts pulling at my clothes and I slap
him. This seems to sober him for a moment and he collapses on the couch
and begins to sob in earnest.
"Please, Abra, give me a second
chance. I promise, it won't happen again. I promise to be faithful.
Please, I don't think I can go on if I'm alone again."
"You made
your choice, Adam. It's obvious that you weren't actually interested in
pursuing a relationship with me or this so-called fantasy. Did you do
this just to humiliate me?"
"No, I swear, that wasn't it at all. I promise that I really wanted it. I still do. Please, just give me a second chance."
"I
can't believe you are asking me to give you a second chance when you
have just shown your true colors. We've been together three days and you
couldn't keep yourself from finding another source of company."
With
a jarring motion, he comes to his feet and goes toward the kitchen. I
follow him asking what he thinks he is doing. He grabs a knife from the
drawer and jerks it across his wrist. With a stifled scream I try to
grab the knife from his hands, throwing my body between him and the
knife. He tries to push me out of the way and makes another stab at
himself. I intercept it and receive a small slice on my hand. When the
blood pools up, he drops the knife and falls to his knees. I kneel down
with him and tear a strip off of my shirt to wrap around his wrist.
The
cut isn't deep and quickly the wound begins to scab. Not taking any
chances I cleanse it with rubbing alcohol and triple anti-biotic
ointment. I then wrap it up and lead him back into the living room. I
have put a band-aid on my own cut and we sit very quietly on the couch,
his hands in mine.
"Don't ever do that again." I say, quietly.
Even I'm not sure which incident I am talking about, but I'd prefer that
none of this happen again. He doesn't say anything, just nods. He rests
his head on my shoulder and I hum a lullaby to him. It is now two in
the morning and I am physically and mentally exhausted. I stand up and I
wince when I see him flinch as though I were going to hit him. I hold
out my hand to him and pull him up when he takes it.
We go to my
room where I help him out of his ruined Han Solo outfit and into a
t-shirt and shorts that David left behind and I couldn't stand to get
rid of. I put his clothes into the washer and when I come back he is
fast asleep. I crawl into bed next to him and sigh heavily.
This is going to be an interesting relationship, though I am sure interesting isn't the right word for it.
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