ADAM

I don’t bother with any of the lights after I get inside my apartment. I moved through my routine mechanically, unconsciously and ended up on the chaise before I punch in the lights to go on. I look at the glaring white linens that only enlarge the emptiness of my bed. Yeah, I can imagine fucking Nicole on it alright. Truth is if I got her here, it would be a long stretch of distance, a long stretch of doing all kinds of things to her, before we got here. I close my eyes and I wonder about what she likes, how she likes it, how many times does it take to get her sated. How would she respond to my mouth on the nape of her neck, the small of her back. How wet does she gets. I grip my cock. What would she feel like around my cock? What hasn’t she done and experienced? I wish I felt up those legs of hers. Those killer legs. Felt her skin, her hard quads. After I clean myself up, I get into bed and drift into sleep thinking about what it would be like to have her here, right here, through the night, then waking up with her.

The week following just drags painfully, despite throwing myself into work, wish it to consume me. I feel like an idiot, checking my phone messages, seeing if she would call. I want to go by the restaurant and just see if she’d show up again. I think about instead of just giving her my card, what else should I have said? Well, certainly not all that shit about her fingers, that was so dumbass. A beautiful woman like that, and I tell her she’s got ugly fingers?? I see her hands, dainty yet not really. They were taken care of but, but what? That childlike look when she was thinking about dessert. Maybe I should have really kissed her like I wanted to do.

Did she think about the dinner with me? Who am I kidding? She went home, probably fucked him like crazy. She was clearly into him, the way she was waiting for him. I just killed time for her. What if she does call? I rehearse it over and over in my head. Hey, Nicole. How nice to hear from you. I had fun the other night. You want to do it again? Probably lame and too aggressive. I will let her talk; see what she has to say. I replay the dinner a hundred times in my head. Those legs, those hands, that mouth. Our comfortable silence when we ate. The glimpses into her. The caution she took around her privacy. I sigh and curse myself.

“Hi. What are you up to? May I come by? And I…….I’m gonna want to stay over.”