Of course, I’m sure it’s only stopped still for me. With him, the clock is ticking on as normal. My clock is ticking somewhere inside me too – I can feel it in my pulse.
Ba dup. Ba dup. Ba dup.
My breath catches in my throat.
The edges of his mouth crinkle and actually turn upward.
“Hi,” he says softly.
Hi?
I almost turn around to see who he’s saying ‘hi’ to. Because men who look like that don’t say ‘hi’ to me. Least of all a maid on her knees who is half in and half out of the open door of a toilet stall.
“Hi,” I squeak back.
His wonderfully-shaped lips part ever so slightly and his nostrils flare as he takes me in.
“Hi,” he says again. He splays his hand. “I’m just, um, cleaning up here.”
I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I can only mutely stare up at his face. You know that feeling when all your senses flee you and there’s this all-powerful electromagnetic attraction that consumes you and makes your guts go upside down and inside out and all squelchy? Well, my roommates tell me that all the time but I’ve never personally experienced it.
Until now.
I feel like the floor has suddenly dropped from under my feet.
It can’t be just his looks. It can’t be.
“Are you all right?” he says, concerned.
I realize I’m still on the floor. I hastily put down the brush, and oh – I do feel a little woozy. Blood has definitely drained out of my head and into my goodness-knows-where, but I experience a tightening in my most intimate of places.
I recognize it as primordial lust.
Oh my God. I’ve just met this man whom I will never see again . . . and I’m lusting after him?
“It’s not lust,” I can hear the voice of my roommate, Deanna, telling me. “It’s love at first sight. I’m telling you. You’ll know when it happens.”
“There’s no such thing,” I scoffed at her then.
No one can fall in love at first sight. It’s always lust. Some animal attraction that implodes you. But here it is. And I don’t want to think it’s just lust. I can’t seem to get up. My knees have turned to shaky pudding. My insides have melted.
No, not lust. It’s kismet.
Like I’ve just met my karmic soul-mate.
With a couple of steps, he’s at my side.
“Hey, you all right?”
His warm hands are touching my arm, my shoulders, buoying me up. His touch on my skin is electric. I feel flushed all of a sudden, and I definitely feel faint.
I rise shakily to my feet, his arms holding mine. Up close, his face is breathtaking. His skin is incredibly clear and soft, and my lungs are completely depleted of air. The air between us is as thick as molasses.
We are facing one another – very close. His beautiful face swims in my vision, and his warmth seeps into me. Those wonderful lips curl in a knowing smile, and before I can tell what is happening – they close in onto mine.
Oh my God.
I think I’ve just spontaneously combusted.
Air is stoppered in my throat as his lips meld against mine. His lips are pliant and oh-so-nuanced. I can’t even believe this kiss is happening (and why oh why would he be kissing me?) and for a stretched moment, I’m too terrified to kiss back. Not that I remember how to kiss in this petrified moment. My brain is so hollow and numb that I can only be but a receptacle.
The pressure of his lips intensifies, and I can feel his hands going round to my back, and he’s oh-so-warm, and he’s groping for something on my back.
(it’s my uniform’s zipper.)
(Oh my G – )
Without missing a beat, he unzips my maid’s uniform – a plain black dress with white trimmings. And all this while, he doesn’t stop kissing me. And he’s parting his lips and his tongue is darting out, and they are parting mine, and I’m letting him roam inside my mouth – that lovely warm wet sweetness of his mouth – and he smells like mints and aftershave and expensive everything. And oh, oh, he’s removing his mouth from my lips and placing little wet kisses on my chin, and neck, and down my neck . . . and throat . . . and his hands are parting the two halves of my dress at the back –
And he’s pushing me into the stall I just cleaned
(why is he doing this? What can he possibly want with me?)
But now I’m fully engaged. My hormones are running berserk and I’m really into this now. I’m lusting as I’ve never lusted before, and by all accounts, so is he. He’s rougher now with my clothes, and he tears my dress off, and it catches on my hips, but he rips it down anyway.
Before I can step out of it, he’s on my brassiere – the cheap one I got from Target – and he rips that off easily too. He’s shrugging out of his jacket, dropping that expensive woolen thing on the floor (clean, thank God!), and I’m reaching for his shirt buttons, and undoing them one by one while he kisses my mouth, throat, everything –
And he’s clawing at my underwear – from JC Penney’s, and I’m clawing at his shirt and ripping it off his shoulders and arms. Oh – his naked skin – how glorious that tight body is under his clothes. (I was right.) His skin is a rich golden cream under the yellow light, and it’s so silky, and his muscles are so smooth and sculptured under that silken skin that I can roam upon forever.
I’m suddenly naked, and so he’s unbuckling his belt and kissing me and shrugging off his pants. I can’t even tell if he’s dropped his underwear (which is sure not to be from Target’s, I’ll bet), but he’s so heated up now that he presses me against the wall – that cold tiled wall with the cerise borders – and he grips both my thighs so that my feet are off the floor. My shoes have come off without me knowing it. His flesh is all around me – hard and soft and sweet and smooth – and he’s leveraging me against the wall, and I can feel his hardness poking me down there . . .
And finding me . . .
“I’ve never done this before,” I want to say, but I don’t because I’m too caught up with his sweet, swollen kisses.
And oh!
A sharp pain expands me, and pricks me, and there’s the rush of his warm c**k into my pulsing and very ready sex, and his lips have not left my mouth.
We lock mouths and tongues – twisting and entwining – as he moves inside me. His c**k gushes in and out of my soft and very wet virgin passage. Because that’s what I wanted to warn him about. Through high school and half of college, I’ve remained a virgin. (No time to have a boyfriend and have sex.) And I’ve never caught on to what the hoopla is about, and so I have always been a little afraid of this –