Place

“Hey, you want to hang out this weekend?”

“With you? Of course! What kind of time are we talking?”

“How much can you take? I’m all yours, baby.”

The tempo of my life changes when Shelby is in it. We find that the more time we can spend with one another, at one go, the deeper we are able to get into our love bond.

There’s a frisson that makes our first moments together electric. Within hours, we are content and calm, as comfortable with one another as a pair of old shoes. Two days together, and our internal clocks are synchronized. We are quieter, touching, gazing, speaking in slow, soft tones.

That’s the place we wanted to go this weekend.

It’s good that we have the roads to that place so well mapped, as we have to leave it behind to tend to our separate lives. I have my work and kids, she has her school, her job, her friends. We make time for each other, for our retreats into one another—and, of course, for our late-night instant messages, filled with quirky observations and pangs of longing.

There were only a few things that interfered with our retreat. First of all I was going to watch Anna perform a new dance piece that night. I couldn’t very well take a date.

“That’s cool,” Shelby said. “I know you have a life. I’ll chill at your place while you are gone.” (She reads this blog, so she knows all about this life I have.)

We kissed when she arrived, and undressed and got into bed. We kissed and ran our fingers over each other’s bodies.

I try to savor these moments of getting reacquainted with one another. My hunger for her is vast; I want to swallow her whole.

But I take slow sips, appreciating the nuances. I am on her, kissing her mouth, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples.

I just have to be in her. I am, slow, deep.

Something takes over as we are together so tenderly. That hunger wells and insists on being fed. She spreads her legs, and I push them back. Her head turns to one side.

I grab her breasts in my fists. I press down and squeeze as I fuck her, hard.

My mind is cleared by my body’s insistence that for now, flesh takes precedence over thought.

Her hair on my pillows, her eyes shut, her smooth pale skin, and I am drunk again, confused. I pull out and set my mouth on her clit. I am gulping deep now.

I am in her mouth. She takes me into her so deep, like she has to feed her hunger too. I cum, my body shaking in her hands, my body under her firm mouth.

We relax in bed, holding each other close. We are on our way now.

I’m starving. Should we go out for Japanese, or opt to be frugal and lazy by eating at home? We can’t make such decisions. Our minds are numbed.

My phone rings. “Hello? Oh hi . . . yes, I’ve got it . . . you want to come over now? Sure, I’ll see you in a few.”

“Is that someone we’re going to fuck?” Shelby yawns.

“No, baby,” I kiss her. “One of the guys at the male orgy this week left a watch. He’s coming to pick it up.”

“Is he cute?”

“Not your type. Anyway, he’s pretty gay.”

I get dressed, and Shelby puts on a silk robe.

It had been very fortuitous that I found the watch. He had left it in the bag he had been given for stowing his belongings. I felt the watch at the bottom of the bag just as I was about to throw it out.

When he arrived, I introduced him to Shelby and went to retrieve the watch. She looked very lovely in lamplight, nude under her robe. She looked like she had just been fucked; I’m sure I looked about the same.

He thanked us for allowing him to intrude on our evening. It’s nothing, we said. He insisted on offering a reward for the watch. It’s not necessary, I said. Let me send you out to dinner, at least.

He left us fifty dollars. Japanese it is, we decided. We ate our fill and paid a tab of $50.15.

There was good kharma afoot.

Shelby and I parted ways, as I went to see Anna’s dance and she went back to my place.

The performance was great, though longer than I had anticipated. I had assumed that Anna would be busy with friends afterwards, but in fact, I was the only friend to attend this performance.

We had a drink. She asked me back to her place, but I demurred, making a lame excuse.

I already had plans afterwards.

Shelby was in bed watching television when I got home. She noted that I was home later than I had said, though she was not at all put out about it.

We undressed and turned in. I faded to sleep, regretting a bit that my being away had rippled the spell.

We woke the next morning, and fell to kissing and touching. I was in her before either of us spoke. “Good morning,” she smiled.

“Good morning, love,” I kissed her.

We made love and fell asleep.

We woke up and made love again.

As we lay in bed afterward, I suggested we go look at art this afternoon.

Great idea, she agreed.

We didn’t move. We didn’t have to go.

We were already there.