October 11, 2007

Another man in my life?

I walked into the lounge and saw him. He smiled, was happy to see me, as I was to see him. I’d been going home for that last few weeks between classes. I hadn’t seen him alone for awhile. The first few weeks of the semester we discovered that we had the same night class on Thursdays and had planned to meet in the lounge beforehand to chat. We’re both going through a divorce so we’ve had a few heart to heart talks about the difficulties in our lives.

We’d been in classes together before but never got much of a chance to talk to one another. I’d noticed him, though. Apparently he’d noticed me, too. There’s been a palpable sexual tension between us since that first day of the semester but neither of us said anything about it…until today.

College professors have a way of making you read exactly what you shouldn’t be reading at vulnerable moments. It seemed that every reading I’ve had over the last few weeks has had some sexual theme. Today was no different. He and I were laughing and remarking about that. His other class had assigned reading with the same sexual theme. In our reading for class today…

All three had brilliant white teeth, that shone against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips.

We both felt that wicked, burning desire. We were trying not to act on it.

I told him I had a date yesterday. He asked how it went and we started discussing secrets. How do you tell someone your secrets? Do you need to? Will they accept you? Many issues we both are dealing with in getting back in the dating scene after being married for a decade or more.

He says, “Why does it have to be dating? Can’t it just be fucking?”

“Yeah, it can. That’s what I had with Logan and gave it up.”

He goes back to his reading and then laughs.

“I don’t know how I can read this. You don’t know what you just did to me. The thoughts I’m having.”

“We could close the door.”

We both laugh at that. The laughing is to cover up the very obvious fact that we’d both love to close the door and just let happen what happens. But we don’t. He turns back to his reading again. It doesn’t take long before he is again laughing about the text.

“Listen to this…take a turn ’round the park in a hackney coach…apparently that was a sexual reference, a place people had casual sex.”

“Hmm…would you like to take a turn ’round the park?”

“Do you have a hackney coach?”

“I have a van.”

Again laughing to cover the tension. We both try to read our respective assignments to no avail. My back is to him now. I can feel his eyes on me. I can’t concentrate.

“You’ve driven me to distraction.”

“You’re the one that said we could close the door.”

“I’m blaming it on the reading. I shouldn’t be reading this stuff! What’s with all the burning desire and quivering? I haven’t had sex in three weeks and I have to read this.”

I notice the time and have to leave now. We say goodbye and go our separate ways knowing we’ll be back here in an hour or so. Anticipation is weight on my shoulders. I don’t know if we should carry on this little tryst. I’m already separated but he is still in the midst of it. He hasn’t actually left his wife yet. I know this is dangerous territory and yet I can’t think of anything else but kissing him.

When we return to the lounge there’s now another student present. He asks if I want to walk down to get coffee. He wants to get me alone again I can tell. So we walk. We’re both trying to avoid eye contact. It’s useless to ignore what’s happening so on our way back up the stairs I ask him…

“I wonder? Will it be you or me?”

“That’ll do what?”

“That will figuratively or quite literally throw the other up against the wall.”

Laughter. We continue up the stairs in silence. When reaching the landing for our floor he says…

“It’ll be you.”

“Me? Why do you say that?”

“Because you know I’m shy and you’d resist.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No.”

We exchange a brief but meaningful gaze, both smiling in a way that means we already knew but the verbal acknowledgment binds the contract. It’s only a matter of time.

Upon entering the small lounge I’m now feeling incredibly hot. I’m sweating. I mention the heat and that I’m going to wander down to our conference room where class is held to see if it’s cooler. I’m hoping he’ll come with. He does but so does the other student. I want to be alone with him. We reach the conference room and sit and talk for a bit. Out of the blue he says…

“I want to show you something.”

So I follow him out of the room and back down to the empty lounge. He closes the door. Neither one of us could stand it anymore. He steps close to me, brushes the hair from my face and very gently touches his lips to mine. We kiss for a few minutes and I notice he’s shaking.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. I haven’t kissed someone for real in a long time.”

“I know how that feels.”

He kisses me once more and says, “Let’s leave it at that for now.”

So we go back to the conference room and sit through what feels like a very long class. Our professor reads aloud that passage about the kiss…a wicked, burning desire…we’re sitting next to each other. He underlines those lines in his book. It’s the longest hour and a half I can remember.

We walk to the parking garage together. We talk for just a minute and when the others drive away we kiss once more, another sweet, tender kiss. It’s nice. I haven’t kissed someone new in quite awhile. It feels so good just to be wanted like that, to know someone is truly attracted to me, wants to kiss me. I love that fluttery feeling, that hot blush in my cheeks, the heart racing, the tingle that starts small and spreads over every inch of my body.

Before I get in the van to drive away I grab him by the shirt, pull him over to me and give him a deep, passionate kiss. He smiles.

“Goodnight.”

“See you next Thursday.”

Whew! What a day! What a couple of days! Two new men in the past two days. My head is spinning. What’s a girl to do?

Sleep on it…that’s what…

Just me…Marissa

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