Sex and… sensibility

Part One – The Foreplay

He is tall and ruggedly handsome; if you don’t mind the nasty grime that sticks to his face. His position, a senior executive with a powerful local company, gives him a self-assuredness, which compensates for a certain slowness in his physical movements that make him appear rather clumsy at times., unless he has to use his mind.

We met in a mutual friend’s house and it was clear from the outset that he had a crush on me, even though he was accompanied by a chirpy, dark-haired woman. However, he soon got rid of her and started conquering what was supposed to be a hard fortress; me.

For days on end he would phone me and we would have the most interesting conversations. When he finally plucked up the courage to invite me over, to my sheer delight, I found most of my favorite books on his shelves. In fact, more than half of our books were common.

He liked showing off with me; taking me to dinner parties and presenting me like a trophy. He would leave me with some of his friends and acquaintances, and move to another corner of the room so that he could watch me. At times, he would display his familiar cheeky grin as if he was saying: “See? The girl is mine!”

But I wasn’t his and never regarded him as a lover, not even a friend. I had mixed feelings about him and not once I did want him to kiss me. I never had that desire for closeness with him that makes falling in love so special. However, in reality, I was drifting into what was to be one of the strangest, most intellectual, and sophisticated relationships I have ever had.

The weekend that followed he invited me and another couple to a mountain chalet he owned . . As we approached the sight and setting couldn’t have appeared more beautiful, romantic, and perfect to me. For the first time since we met I was beginning to feel mesmerized by his world. I wished I could forget about everything that turned me off, and just enjoy the moment.

That night the music was excellent, the food he had brought was “classy”, and the champagne brought the night to a happy end.

Here we were, naked, lying on a king-size bed, with a haunting, big, orange moon staring at us through the open window. Occasionally, strange bird shrieks would break the silence. I didn’t make a move and he didn’t either. We simply lay, not touching even a finger, a tranquil serenity taking over.

He must have felt the awkwardness of the moment too because I heard him saying: “Do you want to ask me something?” “Ask me anything”. In a moment I found myself playing the most bizarre game; the naked quiz. Weird questions cross our minds, and we ask each other if we were animals what would we be ? Or, do you think sex can really save a relationship?

We have so much fun and the giggling soon turns into roars of laughter. What would our friends think of us, I thought. It’s the funniest, supposingly sexiest night ever. Energized by it all I stand up, gesticulate, look out of the window, come back, nestle in the bed sheets, but I never touch him. He doesn’t even try to draw near. He simply lies there and expresses the most wonderful thoughts about every possible topic.

Dawn found us falling asleep, two strangers in a golden bed; naked and emptied of everything, with an odd gap there between us.

B. D.

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