“This has to stop” she says. Her voice is firm and sure, but her eyes are fixated on my lips oblivious to the contradictory meaning of the words just spoken.
Something had happened a the day before. We had gotten drunk, and with the alcohol the inhibitions lifted. I remember flirting profusely, saying things that sober me would have laughed out loud at. I remember my hand on her thigh, slowly but not at all subtly making its way up her leg. I remember what was a blissful night that ended in a pleasant farewell as we each went our separate ways.
Then the morning came, and with it the realization that something had happened, inevitably leading to the text message on my phone reading simply “We need to talk”. Yes we do.
We met somewhere we knew we’d have privacy. We were alone. No one would interrupt us or overhear us.
“It was a mistake, I was – WE were drunk!” she continued. I agreed. I wasn’t paying attention to her words. I was more interested in the direction of her gaze. We were both sober now, and it was still there. The attraction had not faded away as the blood-alcohol levels subsided. In fact it had intensified; it was now reinforced by memories of the night before.
She was still talking. “…and that’s it. Never again. Ok?” The last word, the question; her voice wavered ever so slightly as she uttered it. Her eyes now met mine, and she waited for my response.
I smiled my coy crooked smile; a smile that the night before she had confided in me drives her crazy. I observed her reaction, my final weighing in of my next course of action; I was satisfied. I leaned in and kissed her, hot and fast.
I was forceful; there was nothing sweet about my kiss. I wanted her and the moment our lips made contact it just poured out of me. And for the first few seconds she was on the receiving end. Her lips devoured by mine, her body curving to match my forward lean…but only for a few seconds. Then she pushed back, my desire dwarfed by hers as she let go.
That remains one of my favorite memories to date.