Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Now that I know what to expect, you gently loosen the death grip I have on your shirt and take one of my hands in yours.
You step down. I don't know if you are going down backwards, to catch me if I fall, or if you've got your back to me, and if I fall I will take you with me down the steps. I hesitate, and then feel for the edge of the step with my foot. You lead, I follow.
The staircase seems to go on forever, and it feels as though every time I begin to become comfortable with the steps, we reach a landing and I have to start over again, walking on the flat surface, then following you over the edge.
Finally, the flat surface doesn't end, and you take me through a doorway into the lobby. You lead me out through the door to the parking lot, and put me into the truck, still blindfolded.
You haven't spoken since we left the room, and I am more than a little bit curious about what you are thinking. I hear you open the door on the driver's side of the truck, and feel you get in. The door closes, and I hear the click of the seatbelt. You start the truck, and pull out of the parking lot, turning left, away from the direction of the airport.
Still silent, you reach for me, putting your arm around me and pulling my head onto your chest. We drive like this for a few minutes, and I am just about ready to drift off, when you say, "You did well." I open my eyes and lift my head to look at you, and you remove the blindfold and smile down at me.
You put your arm back around me and start talking. You tell me where we are, because of course I've never been to this city before. You talk to me about things you've done here, places you've been, people we both know. We drive and talk, and drive some more. Pretty soon I have no idea where we are or how to get back, but that's okay. I don't really need to know where we are. Being next to you, feeling your chest move next to my cheek and your hand on my back is so much more important than the location or the time. I laugh, remembering the last time, when I was so wrapped up in how little time we were going to be together that I gave you my watch so I couldn't keep checking it every couple of minutes and calculating the time we had left.
You ask me what is so funny, and I slip my watch off and drop it into your shirt pocket in reply. You chuckle, and I know that you remember too.
One more turn, and we have arrived.
You read the look on my face and say, "You'll see," as you open the door. You have that smile on your face, and that gleam in your eye that tell me either I'm in some serious trouble, or you have a wonderful surprise in store for me. And for the life of me, I can't tell which it is. You climb down from the truck, and come around to open the door for me.
You give me your hand, and help me down from the seat, reaching up under my skirt to give me a little slap just as my feet touch the ground. If you didn't have my full attention before, you do now.
You take me by the hand, and we start walking through what looks like a garden. Once past the first row of trees, I can see a building in the distance. We continue walking toward it, stopping every once in a while for a kiss, or a pinch, or a tickle. God, how I love the things you do to me. The way you make me feel. You get me so worked up that I forget myself, and try to drag you off the path into a clearing.
You put a stop to it immediately, and boy I won't try that again any time soon. I'll be sore for a while, and the look on your face is enough to make me want to disappear into a crack in the earth. I hate disappointing you. "I was just having some fun, and..."
You interrupt me with a kiss. "I know exactly what you were doing. You were trying to distract me from what I have planned for you by dragging me off into the bushes and having your way with me."
"Why, yes, that's exactly what I was trying to do, sir. After all, if you're going to be so damned sexy and sweet, and smell so good, you can't blame me for trying."
You grab my hand and almost drag me along the path until we reach a cabin. It is small, and rustic, and fits perfectly with the surroundings. You pull a key out of your pocket, and open the door.
You step down. I don't know if you are going down backwards, to catch me if I fall, or if you've got your back to me, and if I fall I will take you with me down the steps. I hesitate, and then feel for the edge of the step with my foot. You lead, I follow.
The staircase seems to go on forever, and it feels as though every time I begin to become comfortable with the steps, we reach a landing and I have to start over again, walking on the flat surface, then following you over the edge.
Finally, the flat surface doesn't end, and you take me through a doorway into the lobby. You lead me out through the door to the parking lot, and put me into the truck, still blindfolded.
You haven't spoken since we left the room, and I am more than a little bit curious about what you are thinking. I hear you open the door on the driver's side of the truck, and feel you get in. The door closes, and I hear the click of the seatbelt. You start the truck, and pull out of the parking lot, turning left, away from the direction of the airport.
Still silent, you reach for me, putting your arm around me and pulling my head onto your chest. We drive like this for a few minutes, and I am just about ready to drift off, when you say, "You did well." I open my eyes and lift my head to look at you, and you remove the blindfold and smile down at me.
You put your arm back around me and start talking. You tell me where we are, because of course I've never been to this city before. You talk to me about things you've done here, places you've been, people we both know. We drive and talk, and drive some more. Pretty soon I have no idea where we are or how to get back, but that's okay. I don't really need to know where we are. Being next to you, feeling your chest move next to my cheek and your hand on my back is so much more important than the location or the time. I laugh, remembering the last time, when I was so wrapped up in how little time we were going to be together that I gave you my watch so I couldn't keep checking it every couple of minutes and calculating the time we had left.
You ask me what is so funny, and I slip my watch off and drop it into your shirt pocket in reply. You chuckle, and I know that you remember too.
One more turn, and we have arrived.
You read the look on my face and say, "You'll see," as you open the door. You have that smile on your face, and that gleam in your eye that tell me either I'm in some serious trouble, or you have a wonderful surprise in store for me. And for the life of me, I can't tell which it is. You climb down from the truck, and come around to open the door for me.
You give me your hand, and help me down from the seat, reaching up under my skirt to give me a little slap just as my feet touch the ground. If you didn't have my full attention before, you do now.
You take me by the hand, and we start walking through what looks like a garden. Once past the first row of trees, I can see a building in the distance. We continue walking toward it, stopping every once in a while for a kiss, or a pinch, or a tickle. God, how I love the things you do to me. The way you make me feel. You get me so worked up that I forget myself, and try to drag you off the path into a clearing.
You put a stop to it immediately, and boy I won't try that again any time soon. I'll be sore for a while, and the look on your face is enough to make me want to disappear into a crack in the earth. I hate disappointing you. "I was just having some fun, and..."
You interrupt me with a kiss. "I know exactly what you were doing. You were trying to distract me from what I have planned for you by dragging me off into the bushes and having your way with me."
"Why, yes, that's exactly what I was trying to do, sir. After all, if you're going to be so damned sexy and sweet, and smell so good, you can't blame me for trying."
You grab my hand and almost drag me along the path until we reach a cabin. It is small, and rustic, and fits perfectly with the surroundings. You pull a key out of your pocket, and open the door.
