The Present

It had been exactly 12 days since I've seen him and I'm still a fucking mess. "Excuse me, Miss, your order is ready" the guy at the cafe calls out for apparently the third or fourth time judging by the look on his face, as he holds out my iced coffee and probably burnt bagel. The poor acne ridden kid should have just yelled out, "Hey lady, get the fuck out of la la land and grab your shit!" I left a decent tip since I paid him no real attention, actually anyone any attention since it happened. Either way I was a mess, just call me Miss. Mess.







Miss him.

God, 12 days later and I still miss him. I'm a mess. Miss Mess to be exact.

All I can think of is what happened, what didn't happen, how it happened, where it happened, why it happened and if it will happen again. I almost flooded my bathroom the other night when I was sitting on the toilet lid dozing off into la la land while waiting for the tub to fill, not to mention how I bought some sort of animal print, pink laced bra and panty set for no apparent reason a few days ago. I blame him for almost ruining my new hardwood floors and for spending almost a hundred bucks on something the Pussycat Dolls would wear. Fuck you.

After five months of e-mails and the odd text message but not seeing each other face to face, we met again. It was my farewell party from the unit and I would have never expected us to meet again this way, not after our last goodbye. Your visits were far and few but I understood why. We had the past, we had history but you had your job there and I have mine here. Alone. You go your way and I'll go mine. Alone. We keep our conversation basic and casual when underneath it, it's anything but that. Walking away the last time I figured that I would just leave cold turkey but that didn't last long, I'm glad it didn't and I think you are too.

I never had parties, I rarely even attended them but after the surprise from several friends, our friends, we had drinks and dinner. Of course you had to have seen me before I saw you. See, in my head this happened so much differently. I figured I would have been drunk and somehow managing to look incredibly stunning and walk into a room, probably at a work related event and spot you and smile, maybe throw in a wink for good measure while pretending not to care. But then again I never pictured us leaving at different times, living different lives. But I tried not to think of you in situations like that, it 

always seemed pointless to use you in such a context since it was unrealistic. I was never one to fantasize, well sure you had provided me with private entertainment for my insomnia but I could have never dreamt up this.

You whispered my name as you pulled me in for a quick hug and just stared at me while our old colleagues engage in conversations around us, we just stare. We all talk in a group, pointless drabble, friendly greetings and I can feel your eyes on my collar bones, on my neck, on my face. Suddenly I felt totally exposed in my long strapless black sundress.

Even as we went in separate directions to talk with the other guests I knew you were looking at me because I can't stop looking at you, looking for change, looking for familiarity. I see both.

Your hair is a lot shorter now, skin darker and light beard stubble grazing your face. I like you like this. You look so much older but so much harder, everywhere. I really like you like this. I want to strike up some incredibly witty conversation with you and leave my own farewell party and guests to be with you. To even go for a walk and eat greasy chicken and mushroom Shawarma on a park bench without saying a word but I can't, we can't. Fuck, I really like you like this maybe because you're at arm's length for once.

As the sky grows darker and the guests leave it's just me and you. Always has been but half a bottle of Patron is left on the table and you look at me and smile. I know then that you are staying the night and for some reason all I can hear in my head in the melody of a sports chant is, "Be- Careful- What- You- Wish- For!"

Neither of us is young and now as I watch you walk down the hallway I know that tonight we might not be playing games.


I don't know how it happened or what lead us to it but I ended up in her bedroom. In her god damn bed for fuck sakes. The two hour drive was too much at this hour and after half a dozen beers but truth be told I stayed because I wanted to get as much out of you as I could. It hasn't been hard to leave, to be completely frank it has been hell especially considering the tone of our last goodbye. So do me a solid and let me make the most of this time is what I really wanted to say to you when we exchanged whispered, "it is nice seeing you, stranger."

I feel youthful in this moment of silence.

You were my Best Friend, my partner, my other half and now you are turned on your side with your rear facing me and all I can think about is you early on in the evening in that loose thin dress with your shoulders bare and your ass protruding against the thin fabric of the material thanks to the blessed wind coming in. Your breasts held together in the long dress and you look so different, you look new or something. Hair wavy, sun kissed skin and bare eyes, you remind me of a hippie. Yeah, some chic flower child or beach babe that walks around barefoot and in that moment I think about how your toes are painted light pink and how bizarre it is that I even know that fact or am surprised by it in the first place. 

All I can smell is the faintest smell of lotion and the scent of your sheets which are now lowered to our waists.

Until now I kept a reasonable distance, I was surprised you would even suggest we crash in your bed, I had prepared for the sofa at best but no, you started this. Technically I started this. I could feel the heat radiating off your bare legs and up my thighs and across my bare belly even though I was laying flat on my back and a respectable distance away. Once again I feel incredibly juvenile as I contemplate my next move.

I looked over and saw the way your hips flawlessly shaped your body and now it's my time to look from (not so) a far. In your sports tank top and cotton shorts you look curvier, fuller in all the places that counted and soft everywhere where it mattered most. Even in the pitch darkness of your bedroom I can see the glow in your skin and the way your loose ponytail is almost wavy, thin strands of honey hair dancing at the sides of your face and neck. You looked exotic, foreign, but strikingly familiar, in that moment I turn to my side so I'm now inches away from your backside and my hand rests on your hip. You will probably never have the slightest clue how much nerve I had to strike up to do that but I had to. I had to touch that delicious little spot where your waist and hip flares. Where the tank top has ridden up and shows me that you are golden everywhere.

I know we will probably reference the alcohol at a later date for some shitty excuse but the way you pushed yourself back and up against the front of my shorts had nothing to do with liquid courage. In that moment when my hand squeezed your hip as you nestled fucking perfectly against me, nothing really mattered. Not our distance, not our past and definitely not our future. All that mattered was how you slid a smooth leg over mine and placed your hand over mine, moving me even closer. I wanted to laugh or something. I couldn't fathom the idea that after all the pain I must have caused you and what you involuntarily ended up doing to me that 5 months and 10 years later that it would go down like this.

Did you just moan? My dick turned to rock against the round globes of your ass the minute I heard that sexy fucking sigh escape from your lips. We both turn in perfect synchronization and it's over.

The wait is over, the chase is over, the shit is over, this is it and as I move my lips over yours there's nothing delicate or soft about what we're doing. It would be impossible to feel your swollen lips in between mine eagerly nipping and sucking without wanting to fuck you.

I hold onto the side of your face and as I feel your hips move up off the bed as my tongue explores your mouth I know that this isn't going to be cautious and slow. You moan this time but in my mouth as my erection stabs perfectly into the thin material of your shorts, I can't believe we are doing this but I don't even have the time to soak this all not when I want to find out how soaked I can make you.

You were always a leader, always in control, firm in what you believe in and even stubborn at times but not when I was on top of you in your bed. Things seemed to change when I flung off your shorts leaving you in gray boy short panties and hot pink bra. I can't even process the fact that I am on my knees in front of you undressing you and how you are handing me over total control, total trust.

Your tits look bigger, tight tummy and the band of your underwear stretching perfectly over your hips but still manage to look so soft. I couldn't have imagined this, not two hours away in my three bedroom apartment. Never.

It's the kind of kissing and fondling that occurs when long lost lovers are reacquainted after years of separation but then again maybe we weren't all that far off.

As I kissed your face, your neck, the tops of your breasts my hands grip your ass and you raise your hips off the bed and against me. " I want you," one of us, maybe both of us whisper but trivial details don't matter, not when you reach in between our bodies and grab my cock. I can feel you smile against my neck and I don't ever want to leave you. Ever.

"I knew you'd be big like this, smug asshole," you smile against my neck in between kisses as your hand grips me and allows me to press my tip directly against the wet material. I laugh against your neck as I slide my hand in your panties and all joking stops. You may be my best friend and you might have been my partner but I guess that dynamic changes once I get to find out how tight you actually are.


Thinking back on what happened for some reason you're breathing sticks out in my mind the most and reassures my messed up head that what we did wasn't a mistake no matter how many times I think about it 12 days later. I evaluate it over and over in my head the way that we might have rushed into things, the way we stopped things, the way you kissed things and touched...and well, you know what I mean. I play over the way you pulled down my embarrassingly bright actually hot pink bra to reveal my nipple just seconds before putting it in your mouth, I play over how I didn't direct you once because obviously you somehow managed to read my mind, to already know what I liked, well obviously. No shit.

It doesn't actually hit me that we are actually no longer platonic partners, two friends; we are more in that moment when you pump two fingers deep inside my wet heat. You're breathing hard against my neck as you rub yourself against me as you find my spot and then pound your fingers against it. Why did you have to be so good? Why am I even surprised and why am I not the least bit scared?

I didn't even know how I was capable of saying and doing the types of things to you that I had only experienced in private intimately secret moments. This was no lonely Thursday night where all I wanted to do was have you near me, close to me, inside of me in any way at the ministration of my own hands because this was Sunday morning at 3:00 am and you were very much here and all over me with your fingers inside me and your mouth on me.

I couldn't take the rotating motion of your thick fingers any longer, not if I wanted to have an ounce of control left in my body. The sheets underneath me were wet, I knew that I had to stop this but I also knew how precious time was.

Your breathing was getting harder as your fingers were growing impossibly wet and I know that the only way to do this is fairly. For as much as I take, I planned to give.

"I want to find out how you taste" I breathe out in between kisses, I don't even know if I even said it but knew either way you heard me. I never even knew I was capable of being so seductive, so daring and fearless. " I want to taste it," my voice feigning innocence as I pushed you back and then knelt down in front of you with an engorged erection protruding out of your light blue boxers and now the control was back to me.

With you buried inside my mouth all I can think about is how we went years without hugging, without touching, without sharing, without properly communicating and now with your hands clenching the sheets around you, you are inside of my mouth. Hard, thick and wet inside the walls of my mouth. My tongue draws out patterns and not once do you guide my head or my motions because hopefully I knew what you wanted as much as you somehow managed to know what I want (need).

You taste good and as my cheeks ache I take as much of you into my mouth as possible. I know you thought I was a decent cop, had a pretty good shot, interrogation skills were up to par but you never ever knew this about me. You never knew my other skills and what tricks I had up my sleeve as my hand and mouth coordinate in perfect motion with the way your hips are involuntarily reaching up off the bed and softly into my mouth. In and out, in and out and all I can think about is how you would fit inside me and suddenly you pull me up off of you and push me on to my back and just stare at me. Run your hands over my face, my neck and kiss my forehead and for some reason I think that is the most romantic kiss I have ever received. I never knew how soft your fingertips were until they run over my wet lips until you pull me closer to you, until I can feel you nearly inside of me through the wet crotch of my panties and you kiss me deep and hard.

I want you inside me.

I tell you this and in an awkward burst of passion you ask me if I have "anything" maybe you assume a single gal like me has a box of rubbers laying around but there hasn't been anyone in a while, I think in forever.

I shake my head before you even finish your sentence, you sigh in frustration as I ask you the same question.

"No I don't, I...fuck, I don't," You say as your still pressed up against me, I'm almost sure you can feel the way I'm throbbing and I almost want to shift my panties to the side and just let you slide inside rules and precaution be dammed.

"Fuck," I moan out as I feel a lone drop of sweat slide in between my cleavage.

"Is there a store around here or something?" He asks me as if magically some 24 hour shop is right down the block, he knows there isn't.

"No but you can ride my bike around to find one, fuck," I swear again, he laughs at my bad attempt for humour when all I want to do right now is blow my fucking head off. "You ride a bike now?" He laughs against my neck, his hands now pulling my thighs up and my legs above his shoulders so he manages to 

nestle even more intimately against me. I ignore this pointless banter, I can't think, I can't move, I can't function not now.

"You sure you don't have one?" I whisper against his chest, I can't help but kiss his neck, I'd feel like I was taking his presence for granted if I didn't taste and learn as much about him as possible.

"I don't think I have one in my car, I don't carry them around...fuck...maybe we shouldn't," He says as the man is one big huge contradiction because right now he is grinding his hips in slow lazy circles with the tip of his hard on pressing against my clit. A Few more grinds back and then forward and I'm done, I can't imagine that he is much far off than me.

"Fuck sakes," he laughs at the predicament we are in and I'm almost glad for it but then he runs his hand down my stomach and presses into me hard so that he is practically inside me. Fuck he has always managed to find a way inside me. I am thankful for our barely there control and his consideration even if I want to say fuck it all and sit down on top of his cock until he fills me up.


I make sure to make you come at least a few times even if it is with your panties barely on and with my dick pressed against you or with my hand going numb in between your thighs. No matter how much I want to bury myself inside you, no matter how tight I now know you are, I can't do this irresponsibly. I can't do this to you, to me, to us. Even though I drove along the freeway and through hours of traffic to see you, I never pictured this and I never want to picture you with regrets towards me so this is what we do till the sun comes out like a bunch of College kids. I finger you; you straddle me with my dick tucked against you, my hands palming your round ass as I move you back and forth on top of me. This is as good as it gets given our situation and even though all I want to do is show you how much I missed you, how much I need to be a part of you right now, I want something to look forward to, I need to post pone this, we have no other options in all reality and I hate that we only have a few hours left.

I allow your hand to guide mine as we lay sweaty and tangled, you move my hand inside your bra which is oddly still on considering how I am now completely naked and your panties are half torn and completely ruined. First I feel your hard nipple in the middle of your perky breast and then I watch your eyelashes flutter when I roll your nipple in between my fingers, I could spend all day and night discovering you. Discovering your best friend in and out for a day sounds good to me so I continue to touch you and when I suck gently on your nipple I stroke you till you grip my arm tightly with one hand and pull my face up and against yours hard and fast. You bite my bottom lip as you come and I know that we have to sleep, we have to do something, I fucking feel like my heart is ready to burst out of my skin.

You don't stop kissing me after you lay half on top of me with your breasts against my chest and your head nestled against my neck. Even though you had me in your mouth, sucked on me eagerly, I think this is our most intimate kisses. In the aftermath of unprepared passion you are half asleep on top me kissing my neck in a trail of pecks. My chest, my throat, my neck, my cheeks, my eye lids, I think you are trying to kiss me to sleep and I can get used to this.

I feel your hand make unknown patterns on my inner thighs and I can feel myself getting hard again, I never figured you were a tease but then again you teased me without even knowing it so this was no different. This was no different from when you would sit Indian style on the floor looking through boxes and boxes of shit in my apartment while preparing for a trial. You never knew what you were doing to me by just simply sitting there reading, watching you bite your bottom lip and cringe your eyebrows together in concentration. Just like now how you are only in underwear tucked perfectly against my overtired and over aroused body, you drive me fucking nuts. Always have and probably always will. I kiss you just as you fall asleep and suddenly I wish that my request for a Time Machine on my Christmas list back when I was eight would have came true.


What the fuck?

My bedspread is a mangled mess around my ankles, well our ankles as my eyes shoot open. Wait, our ankles? I look around and your arm is across my breasts holding me and as you stir in your sleep you pull me closer as if this is in the everyday norm. I'm in my underwear with my bare ass touching the mattress, my comforter is draped around his waist and that's that. I close my eyes and you run your hand down my side until you pull my hips back towards you, this time your beard stubble rubs against my neck. I hope it leaves a mark.

Twenty minutes later and the sun is beading in through my window, he is almost an hour and a half late for work not to mention the drive he has a head of him. I am grateful for the couple of days off I have before I start my new life, my new career but part of me wishes I had to be in the station so I could be distracted from how overwhelmed I am, from how I am actually fighting a smile and biting my lip to prevent me from laughing in obscurity.

I actually don't mind the slight snoring against my shoulder because the large rough hands are still on me and our limbs are still tangled.

We both simultaneously sit up and get up without saying a word. I think I mention something about still being a bit tipsy but we both know that's not true, maybe I said it to break the ice or to protect my own feelings and insecurities about what we did and what we didn't do.

You find your pants beside my bed and I spot my shorts across the room hanging off a chair but it's too far to go to when I'm practically naked so I sit up and grab a large blue tee shirt and figure that since you seen me naked hours ago that I can just hold it up against my breasts instead of putting it on. I try to find a middle ground in being two long time friends with two people engaging in another level of their relationship, I have a feeling we will be doing this for now on but still I don't feel weird.

I feel good, like after a good meal and a cold drink good. Like putting on an old jacket and going into the pocket to find twenty bucks kind of good. I know I probably looked like a total mess but now you seen me, all of me and I could care less about my wild hair and make up less face.

I watch you dress and mention how good it was to be back and mumble curses about having to leave and get ready. I follow you to my bedroom doorway but stop there, I figure if I say goodbye to you here then I'll still be close to you, close to my bed, close to our smell, close to last night.

"See you soon" he says hugging me before he leaves and I retreat back to my bed and lay in it till I am forced to get up and start my day even though I move around like a zombie several days, weeks later in some sort of post toe curling , body part licking, hip grinding comatose.

I replay the night over and over in my head, most times when I think about it I smile to myself, shake my head in disbelief or just play over the dirtiest details I can think of and dissect each kiss, each touch over and over again. Sometimes I think of it and wonder if you regretted it, if you want to do it again sometime in the not so distant/far away future or if you think about it half as much as I do.

12 days later and we haven't spoke about the incident, we exchange half drunk, totally irrelevant text messages at 4:00am or random e-mails but there are no letters, no confessional calls. I didn't expect there to be, we are too alike to do otherwise, both of us either chicken shit or cautious. Probably both.

I check my inbox and see a message from 11 days ago and open it as I sit in a robe as I wait for my laundry to finish ( fucked up sheets and torn panties included, why I kept them is unknown to me). I see one message from him. The first paragraph talks about wishing there were more 24 hour breakfast joints where he lives but ends with one farewell message.

"I think last night was a long time coming."