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A Million Years Ago Tonight**

**This was originally written for my ex-boyfriend while we were dating. This is what happened a year ago today. What a difference a year makes, eh? The comments about editing, which I left it, are from the original draft and are quite prescient considering. The title comes from a song that I sang in acting school called "The Night that Nothing Really Happened."

For me to write something like this, I actually re-experience the memory. My memory is very vivid and so it’s literally like going back in time and reliving something. In fact, when I went back to edit this I noticed I slowly shifted from past to present tense as I got further into the piece. The more I immerse myself in the memory, the more it becomes the present. While this may sound wonderful, in reality, it’s very depressing. It’s one thing to experience a moment while you’re living it not knowing the outcome, it’s another thing to go back into a memory and re-experience it knowing what will happen next. For example, if I relive a memory of my ex-boyfriend. When I come out of that memory, I go through losing him all over again.

You kept looking at my body that day. You had looked before, quickly, but generally you kept eye contact. I honestly didn’t think you were that attracted to me until that afternoon. You kept taking long lingering looks down my body, my breasts, my spine, my ass. I was supposed to have a date that night, but I had a bad feeling about it, so I liked the attention. It made me feel sexy even though I wasn’t trying to be. We sat and talked as we always do, and you made me laugh.It distracted me from my anxiety about the date.

Then my date, predictably, cancelled at the 11th hour. You invited me to your place to watch movies. I knew I shouldn’t go. I had been drinking. I was upset. These are things that do not make for good decision making. I left and almost got home and realized where the night was going. I would go home, get more upset, go out, get trashed, get more upset, wake up the next day with eyes swollen shut crying and depressed. Or I could go see you. I called and went to see you.

I remember walking into your apartment. I hadn’t known what to expect, but it was beautiful. I sat on the floor of your man cave and picked out a movie. I was nervous about it. I wanted it to be something we would both want to watch, but you weren’t helpful in that regard at all. You wanted it to be my choice entirely, what I wanted. I picked Snatch and went into the living room. You brought me a globe of wine, which I probably shouldn’t have had.

At first, I was sitting straight as I always do. In acting school I was the only person who never got yelled at for poor posture. All those years in a back brace made me sit up straight all the time, but the wine took hold of me and after a time I found myself reclining on the couch. I was so relaxed, dreamy and content. This was actually much nicer than the date. Finally you took my hand. It was the first time you had really touched me. Your hand was so soft and warm. It was sweet. Innocent even. I knew I should pull away, but I was so relaxed, so happy, it felt so good and it was just my hand after all.

After a while, you kissed me. I think I was as surprised as you were that you kissed me. It was a soft hesitant kiss. Gentle. No one had kissed me like that in years. It was a sweet kiss-vulnerable. But the second and third were passionate, hungry. You pulled me to you, I could feel the strength in your arms, like feeling them wrapped around me, pulling me closer. You commented that I was a good kisser that you knew I would be. I don’t think it had occurred to me that you ever thought of kissing me before. I could feel your hands exploring my body caressing my breasts, my ass.

I was surprised by how willing you were in your passion. Then, you suddenly came to, said “I can’t do this” and we went out on the balcony to talk. I loved the view. I hadn’t had a view like that since grad school. It was pleasant out on the balcony. I expected you to ask me to leave, but you didn’t. I knew that you would kiss me again, that you wanted to kiss me again.

We laid down on the couch, and you started to kiss me, you pulled me onto your lap, your hands pushing my skirt to my waist. I was wearing a thong so I was basically half naked. You took my shirt off and ran your hands over my skin. You started to pull off your pants. I was surprised. I didn’t think it would go beyond kissing. I told you we could just lay on the couch and kiss, but now you were committed to taking me to bed. You stood up to take me to the bedroom and I asked you if you were sure. You grabbed my hand and pulled me back into your room.

You got me naked quickly. I lay on the bed while you got naked. Then you were standing at the foot of the bed completely nude, me lying there waiting. In that moment, I was terrified. I was terrified of what you would think of me for doing this, that you would hate me, that we wouldn’t be friends anymore, I was terrified of what you would think of my body, that I would be a disappointment in bed. I was even terrified of you. I didn’t expect you to be so well endowed and I was worried it might hurt. I was terrified that you didn’t really want me, that I was just a placeholder for someone else, someone absent. I was terrified of myself, how much I wanted this to happen, how much I wanted you to want me. Then you came towards me on the bed.

You wrapped your arms around and me whispered “Anything but missionary position” twice. I wasn’t sure why. My first thought was you wanted some sort of exotic sexual position. I mean, of course, I’m kind of a fetish-y looking girl, that’s why men want me, so why not? You pulled me on top of you, and I was surprised how easily we fit together. There was no pain at all, just pleasure as I rode you while you explored my body with your hands, on my waist so you could thrust deeper inside me, cupping my ass as my breasts brushed against you. You even spanked me a few times. Even though you didn’t enjoy it, I was surprised how hard you spanked me. Most people start light, but not you, you gave me a pleasant spank from the beginning. I could feel my skin tingle afterwards.

Finally you put me on my back. I was worried. This was the position you didn’t want and I wanted please you, to be what you wanted. But you were so much deeper that way, I brought my legs up as far as I could and lifted my hips with each of your thrusts so you could go even farther. I could feel my orgasm beginning to rise within me. I was surprised how easily you could get me there. Usually it takes weeks before I allow myself to go that far with a man, but I trusted you already. I could make a choice. I could stop it if I wanted to, or I could let myself go. I let myself go. I wanted you to feel me come. And soon I was, bucking and screaming and gushing.

In those moments, I was entirely yours. Not just my body, all of me.

After I came, still trembling, you rolled off of me and came. I remember watching the ropes of come spurting from you, how hard you came. I was impressed. I had given you pleasure, which is what I wanted.

After a moment, you went to the bathroom to clean up. I lay unmoving on the bed. Again, I was worried. Worried you would ask me to leave. Worried what you would say now that the moment was over. You came back to bed. I could tell you felt a little nervous, awkward. I reached for your hand and pulled it over me so you were cupping my breast from behind. I love that position. You immediately curled around me, both of us relaxed now, enjoying being so close. It was even more intimate than the lovemaking. I could feel your breath on my neck. I felt safe and content, and I fell right to sleep enfolded by you.

Still, I slept fitfully. My earrings kept stabbing me, but I was afraid to take them off in case I forgot them. Finally I took them off. Later I was thirsty. I didn’t want to disturb anything in the kitchen so I took one of your vitamin waters from the dining room. And after that I was hot. Your body generates so much heat that lying next to you I kept waking up sweating and throwing off the covers. You would wake up and cover me back up. I didn’t want to disturb you, but finally I said something and you turned on the AC. But every time I woke up, you would reach out and caress me or snuggle me. I remember in the night, you got up to watch tv for a while. You asked if that was alright, which was sweet. I said yes and immediately fell back to sleep. When you came back in, you snuggled against me. I could tell you enjoyed coming back to curl up with me, enjoyed how I sleepily and instinctively snuggled into your arms. Every time you reached for me re-assured me and I would fall back asleep.

In the morning, I woke up with my head on your chest. We were entangled in each others arms and legs. You gently put me on my back and kissed my breast while your hand explored between my legs. You found how wet I was already and took me. Again I was worried about the position. I wanted to please you. But from the moment you entered me, I could feel how close I was to coming. Again I was surprised how easily you could get me to that point. I gave into you entirely and came again, gushing over you. You came soon after. We lay under the covers for a bit talking after that. I wanted to spend the whole day under there with you, kissing, snuggling, making love, talking, napping. I knew as soon as we got out of bed this would be over. You wouldn’t do it again.

But you had a funeral to go to. I picked up my earrings and started to get dressed. As predicted, while I was still naked you started to tell me how you were sorry but this couldn’t ever happen again. I smiled and said I know, even though not a woman alive wants to hear that when she’s naked and only just stopped trembling from love making. Still, I’m used to it. I got dressed, careful to erase any trace of me.

You gathered up the sheets. You were nervous. I was sure you were going to freak out about this evening and not want to see me ever again. I left you in the elevator. I walked out with my head held high. I’ve learned that much from my mother. Never, ever, show shame even if you feel it. Let the doorman think what he wants, I had a lovely night so fuck his judgement. I stood outside in the sun and put on my sun glasses feeling sexy and happy and alive and even though you told me this could never happen again, I walked all the way down to first avenue just in case the morning staff of dorrians was there so they wouldn’t see me walking from the direction of your apartment in my clothes from the day before. I went to my apartment and napped for a bit.

What you don’t know is that night I did go on my date. He was young (25), tall, blonde, seemingly nice, however, I walked out on him. He had some terrible political views and instead of doing what I would normally do and just smile and nod and wait for the date to be over, I decided he wasn’t worth my time and I just got up and left. I went home and to sleep. I was supposed to see you the next day. I wasn’t sure I would, but I hoped so. I was looking forward to just being with you and talking, which is precisely what happened.

And then a week later, you kissed me in the sun in Central Park. Never has a way of coming around far too soon.

Labels: ex-boyfriend, heartbreak loss, sadness, sex

Bad Bunni posted at 10/01/2012 11:18:00 PM |

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