“Let's go.”
It is not a request but an order. He is upset. His hand presses hard on my elbow to guide me to the exit. I walk dazed and without recognizing reality, when suddenly he stops and pulls me without any delicacy. And now what happens?
“God...” He pounces on my mouth in a desperate kiss, hungry and too short for my taste.
He is as frustrated as I am. What if we tried the sofa? He seems to hear me because he holds my hand and pushes me towards the exit towards the car. His body becomes tense again and his eyes resume their usual Arctic blue.
What has happened? We both want it, then why don’t we calm the agony with a good romp? Are you bipolar or psychotic? Better not ask and I follow him to the parking lot. I am too excited to think about psychological disorders and their consequences.
The dinner turns out to be more relaxed or at least it seems to be because my body is still trembling waiting to calm down. As predicted by Aunt Elsa, my desire couldn’t be calmed by a couple of kisses here and there. The tension is in each of my words and although I try to hide it I can’t. I want him and the new Anne is not afraid to admit it.
His look is as intense as mine. We are both restraining ourselves but mine is a matter of stupid modesty. And what's yours? It’s clear that it’s not because of shyness. Why don’t you throw yourself at me! We are adults, I don’t expect to marry you or anything like that, why don’t you go straight for the climax? I am burning and my body trembles to have you.
I’m an adult woman, free, determined and more than willing. I'm accelerated like a motorcycle and you know it so why do you decide to wait?
“Have you always worked alone?” He asks interested.
Hey, how? Oh sure, we’ll continue with the foolishness of cordial talk, it's okay...
“No, when I finished my degree I specialized in experimental archeology and worked with a large group of people. Why do you ask?”
“It just seemed to me,” he paused to take a sip of a 2012 Merlot, “you don’t seem very happy to have treasure hunters in your museum.”
“I prefer not to talk about that. It’s not because of working with a partner but because of what he represents. His story speaks of a selfish man who only thinks of his own interests, but archeology and the pieces we find represent much more. The past tells us who we were and everything we as a human race have learned to arrive as to where we are today. Without that past we would not be the humans that we are. These pieces are not just an economic value; they are the footprints of where we step today and as we advance. Our ancestors formed a past, we are the present and all in together we form the future. Those relics are the proof of that wonderful union.”
I drink a sip of wine satisfied with my response.
“Although I have to admit that a bit of envy eats away at me.”
“You with him?”
“When I was a child there was a time when I dreamed of being a treasure hunter, one like Indiana Jones but as a girl. In my fantasies I traveled the world living thousands of adventures. I recovered lost relics and the newspapers talked about my exploits.”
“I imagine there is a but.”
“But... The girl one day woke up and discovered that she no longer had parents. A drunk driver invaded the opposite lane and threw them off the road. The orphanage erased my dreams; the rest was the harvest of my fears, lack of courage and a destroyed self-esteem.”
“I understand the feeling.”
“Did you lose your parents too?
“Something like that. More wine?” “It’s clear that your past is not a conversation that you enjoy.”
“Just a little or I'll be so dizzy that you'll have to carry me home.”
I smile trying to redirect the conversation towards a more pleasant subject and it seems that I get it because he looks at me with warmth in his eyes.
“You’re breaking my plans...”
“And are they unbreakable?”
“Until today yes,” he is always so serious, so cold... So sad.
“But not everything in your life will be my fault. Now you're having dinner and I imagine you already did it before you met me.”
“With female company, no.”
I open my eyes incredulously. The most handsome man that I know exists and he doesn’t usually take his consorts to dinner? Impossible. It must be a bluff!
“I don’t believe you.”
“Anne, I'm different.”
And there we have it! My fantasy of a night of sex with the Greek god vanishes. What are you going to tell me? Are you gay, asexual, transsexual or childhood traumas? I just want an unforgettable carnal experience, with a dreamy man, and here I keep listening to who knows what confession. Please, gay no! Or I'm lost.
“You're very handsome but I don’t think you're referring to that difference right?”
He laughs with desire and he is even more handsome.
“If what you’re asking is if I like women. The answer is yes. A lot,” I sigh hard without being able to hide my tranquility. “Anne... You attract me very much. I cannot get you out of my mind. I can’t resist your magnetism.”
Magnetism? I have that?
“But...?” I ask disappointed.
I close my eyes and shake my head.
“I’ve never spoken in advance of this with anyone, but with you nothing is as usual.” He runs his fingers nervously through his hair. “You are intrepid, vital, intelligent, funny and your body drives me crazy.” “Keep talking.” I answer joyously.
“I'm not a man of relationships,” he smiles grimly, “Anne, I'm only able to have sex without any romantic entanglement. I don’t believe in feelings or their derivatives. My desires and my sexual tastes are a bit different from the ones you are used to and I'm sure you'll run out scared when I barely talk about them but I can’t help but want you the way I do.”
“What do you know about my habits.” I don’t like him to imagine me as an idiot.
“I'm not a prude.”
“Anne...”
“I'm not a stupid nun if that's what you’re implying.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he touches his hair nervously, “Anne, I frequent the Temple of the Passions...”
“I know we met there.”
“It wasn’t my first time...”
“I'll say again that I'm not stupid.”
He scratches his chin nervously.
“Anne, I have had sex with women with other couples and I attend gangbang sessions.”
My mind searches desperately in the trunk of wisdom. Gangbang? Have I read any of that on Google? Will it be a variant of those that give blows and gang is a kind of leather whip?
“Are you the kind to use leather and whips?”
“Never. I don’t practice sadomasochist.” His reaction is of contained fury.
His eyes are clouded and it even seems that the mere mention of the subject disgusts him.
“I don’t relate pain to pleasure, that will never be my thing. I am not so cruel as to be aroused by mistreating a woman. The most is light bondage.”
Light bondage, gangbang... I have no idea what he’s talking about but I know a lot about bad treatment, and I am delighted with his statement.
“And what exactly is yours?”
“I've had sex with friend’s women. I share their partners.” I lower my head so as to hide my thoughts from him.
He controls everything in his path, he practices shared sex but no feelings, zero affection and sweetness. With Reed everything is reduced to a simple and instantaneous physical act.
The idea doesn’t displease me or shock me, but is it something I can control? Am I able to have sex and forget ten minutes of your burning kisses or your caresses on my body? I'm not sure.
On the one hand my intrepid spirit seeks new adventures and I want to live new experiences but it is also true that my conservative self demands prudence from me. I can see myself sunk in an unrequited relationship, and if I’m not able to separate the
terms well, everything will end fatally for me. Terms! God, this looks more like a business relationship than a man and a woman who want each other.
“Anne, I've never had a relationship. I’m not capable of giving love to anyone. I don’t want to create false expectations.” He seems to guess my doubts.
“You’ve never been in love?”
“Never. I have no feelings or at least not those feelings that women like.”
Shit! Now I'm lost. Refusing love I understand but then to say that he has never had feelings for a woman, I can hardly believe him.
“Do you have any diagnosed illness or something?”
“I'm not crazy, and no, I don’t have any mental illness.” He answers annoyed.
“So it's a simple fear of romantic relationships,” I breathe a sigh of relief, “I think I understand that. I’ve loved a lot and I don’t intend to relive it.”
Reed drinks a sip of wine and his fist tightens. Don’t you like my confession? Well, you’ll have to put up with it just as I’m doing with you.
“Why are you telling me all this?” I don’t understand much his outburst of sincerity. You disorient me.
“The women with whom I usually meet know perfectly well my tastes. I’ve never have sex with people outside of my environment. I don’t want to cheat you, I should stay away from you and look for another woman but I can’t. I want you so badly that my body hurts. I would take you to the bathroom and lock you in with me right now. The men from the other tables would know that I'm fucking you on the sink, they would get hard imagining me between your legs and I would enjoy it a thousand times more because I know their desperation.” His breathing is agitated and his eyes sparkle in disarray.
God... I take a sip of water nervously. I'm also excited just to hear him.
What a confession. The heat rises up my thighs. Does he consider me unable to have adult sex? I want him and I'm interested in the offer.
I’ll think later about the future alone in my house with two kilos of ice cream.
“Reed, I'm not a pigtailed girl. Love is also not among my current plans. I've been a widow for three years and I'm starting to be happy, I don’t want complications. I was in The Temple just like you. I want to try it. Don’t offend my female intelligence, I want to have sex and it's with you.”
God, I think I have passed out because he gets up giving a strong shove to the chair and approaches me with his face transformed.
Oh mother, ignited by passion he is even more handsome than before. I want him with an intensity that should scare me but I won’t be afraid. My ardor is too strong. I want to have everything for me here and now. I don’t intend to flee.
His hand clutches mine and pulls me up to kiss me in the restaurant. His kiss is passionate and not delicate at all. His tongue pushes so hard into my mouth that it forces me to hold on to him by clinging to his strong shoulders. I open my lips and his tongue runs unceremoniously through me. I want him and he wants me. The tension in his body and the bulge in his pants clearly say that a kiss is not enough. He separates us with the same intensity with which he approached me and pulls my hand to practically drag me towards the corridor at the back.
“Where are we going?”
“Restrooms.”
“Ah.”
We enter, he closes the door with the small hook and looks at me like a hungry wolf.
“Anne Foster... I need to have you now. I can’t wait a damn second more.”
I'm not thinking clearly but what woman could, when a Greek God like this one runs his tongue through your mouth to go down to the opening of your needy breasts.
He is distant, taciturn and he shares women with other men but all this instead of horrifying me, makes me want him even more. I'm desperate. I have never felt such a big need before.
“We are in the restroom of a restaurant...” I clarify with words interrupted by desire.
Reed gives me his beautiful look burning with desire. He has no intention of waiting. For the love of God! You can’t look at me like that and not feel faint.
I move back frightened by the intensity of his passion and get trapped between his body in front and the sink embedded in my ass. The black hair frames his face, shaping his deep desire and God! He is so glacial that he manages to scorch me. He controls the situation perfectly; he has me right where he wants me. I can’t move, I'm completely trapped but I'm not scared.
“Tell me yes...” He whispers with confidence.
I swallow nervously. I'm locked in the restroom of a restaurant, with the most handsome man on the planet and he is asking for permission to have sex with me! Self-esteem, about to orgasm.
“I’m not a man with sweet words or affectionate feelings but I will make you melt with my hands... And with my fingers... And with my body... And with my mouth... Babe, tell me yes...” he whispers husky with passion. “I can show you the pleasure we will achieve together.”
His agitated body clings to mine desperately. His hands slowly caress me from my neck to my chin showing unknown promises. His lips run slowly down the vein on my neck and my mind is clouded by desire. I'm desperate; I want to do it here and now. I like him a lot but... But... Yes, I have a but, and I am the most idiotic woman of all.
I can’t! I can’t do this with someone like that. My ass is embedded in a sink and a five-minute intercourse with a man whom I can’t stop dreaming about? Is this what I'm looking for? No, the new Anne wants to live but she is not suicidal.
With a stranger it would be different but with Reed everything gets complicated. I'm not talking about a formal relationship or anything like that, but I would like to feel a bit more as an intelligent woman and a little less whorish.
When I leave here I will feel used, a forgotten woman that they leave at home and with which they will never have a second date. I am not a toy and I am not able to play with your rules, I can’t continue.
“Please no.”
He stops instantly with agitated breathing. His body is tense and his gaze changes instantly. He is disoriented and I understand it. He moves his mouth away from my neckline and drops his arms to the sides, totally tense.
“I'm sorry, I can’t. I understand about sex without compromise but your ways confuse me. I'm not talking about a couple, but I need at least the minimum.”
“Allow me to clarify it to you,” he is furious. “I'm burning with desire, we're here, I want to fuck you but you tell me about needing the minimum!”
His tone breaks the little heat we still had left.
“I need to leave. I’d better go.”
“Anne,” he scratches his hair nervously, “I won’t change. I am this.”
“I don’t want you to change. I want nothing. I didn’t look for you! I just want to go out a couple of times with a man, have sex if the occasion arises, period. I’m not asking for too much. So many informative conversations, a quick fling by a sink and then there I stay, it makes me feel a bit of a whore, not denying it.”
I stretch my hand to turn the handle but he doesn’t move away.
“I can’t let you leave.”
I close my eyes, shaking my head.
His smell makes me drunk and my body screams for throwing myself on him, taking his shirt off and leaving this nonsense but he attracts me too much to jump off the cliff. If after sex he rejects me, my self-esteem will plummet and I’m not in a position to return to quitting. To lose what little I have gained would be to fall into a pit into which I don’t want to return.
“One last kiss and I’ll let you go.”
“Reed...”
“Kiss me,” he ordered hoarsely, “you kiss me.”
“I can’t.”
“I won’t accept your rejection.”
“Rejection? I'm just trying to protect myself.”
His eyes beg me and I know I've lost. I approach him and stretch my hands caressing his face. I don’t have any will to deny myself. I face his lips and seal my mouth with his. Reed moans and tilts his head deepening
the kiss. His tongue runs through me firmly, savoring me in every corner of my mouth and I follow him wherever he takes me. It is a safe kiss, demanding and totally controlled by him. I start the dance but he is the music.
My hands travel directly to his neck caressing his black hair fulfilling the desire that has tortured me throughout the night. It is so soft and possessive, that my body surrenders with ease when I hear how his heart is racing. My body clings even more to his. I need his contact, I want to have him inside of me and feel the warmth of his skin. One hand squeezes my buttocks to lift me over the sink and the other palm rests open on the wall. His mouth separates from mine and I can feel him babbling agitatedly.
My body burns with need. I’m barely on the sink and Reed holds me with his strong arms so I won’t fall... I smile enchanted with his offer, hook my legs around his waist and cross my hands behind his neck to bring him to my lips. I kiss him decisively trying to eat him whole. I'm as willing to do it as he is. I stop talking nonsense and take action. My hands go slowly down to his pants and I start to unzip his zipper that contains a big hard bump.
“Yes baby,” he whispers trembling, “yes...”
I am giving way and I am aware that I shouldn’t give up but it’s totally impossible. To have him wrapped in my warmth is the only thing I can think about.
With one hand he holds my body and with the other he presses my neck hard to immobilize me. The pants fall under his knees and my hand caresses him over the cotton of his boxers and I hear him curse under his breath. I cling to his mouth savoring every hidden corner while my hand is inserted in the fabric to feel the soft touch of his skin. I stroke his pubic hair and I feel his lips tremble.
“Excuse me, are you busy? Man, is anyone there?”
“Fuck, for once I’ll do it like a normal man...”
Reed takes a few seconds to react while I shamefully remove my hand from his crotch.
“Yes,” his deep voice sounds ragged with restraint.
“Excuse me, sir, but the boss thought that you had been here for a long time.”
“We'll be out in a few minutes.”
“Ahem, sir, the boss insists on knowing that everything is fine.”
Diana Scott - [Stonebridge 01] Page 7