A Rough Night
What began as Dani’s surprise birthday party suddenly became so much more.
Initially hesitant to attend due to subconscious thoughts that it wouldn’t make a difference, I finally decided to emerge from my comfort zone and resist my sapping suppositions.
Our former encounters were minimal. She worked in the accounting department of the firm, and I worked upstairs in Creative. We rarely shared more than a smile as I strolled past her desk every morning at work. I was informed of the festivities via a business email blast. According to the flyer, everybody was invited as long as they kept the secret, and brought a gift.
The turn out was tiny, consisting mostly of Dani’s family members and close friends. Co-workers popped in from time to time, only to leave within the hour toting claims of prior plans and commitments.
Nobody brought a gift.
Everybody brought spirits.
Libations became lubricants, and I witnessed Dani loosen.
Guests began leaving in pairs to evoke on new escapades. I postponed my departure due to a sudden downpour. Atlanta’s weather remained reminiscent of life- unpredictable, and inconstant.
After a couple hours of partying, we were left alone to finish the last bottle left.
“Don’t be a bitch.” Dani aimed the neck of Honey Jack Tennessee Honey at me like a pistol. “You don’t need a damn glass.”
“I- I have class!” I slurred.
She seemed to have disposed of her shell in its entirety, and I began to wonder if her advances should be interpreted as interest…
…or inebriation.
Regardless, her hovering hostility was a total turn-on.
Rain wasn’t the only thing pouring. Chemistry overflowed, soaking our communication.
Sexual tensions evolved, becoming thick enough to physically run my fingers through.
“My boyfriend hasn’t texted me all day…” Dani seemed to drift away as she peered at the screen of her phone. “But he’s posting shit on Instagram.”
Thunder rolled outside of her living room window, supplying sound for the grinding of my invasive imagination.
“I need to get home.” I stated, immersing myself in cowardly comfort. “It’s late, and if I keep drinking…”
Though she held it captivated, I sensed her discontent. She expected me to want her. She was used to that.
She waited until I got to the door before attempting to hamper my exit.
“It’s still raining, and I know I live far.” She held my arm. “I don’t mind if you stay over. You can sleep on the couch.”
I paused before inquiring, “Are you going to sleep on the floor in front of it?”
_____
The living room lights were now dim, candles illuminating the setting. The sweet scent of Spiritual Incense wafted around the vicinity. Hollow alcohol vessels decorated the lower level of the loft.
We were now both sitting comfortably on the couch, under a down comforter that felt like the exterior lining of a cloud.
My hand rested on her thigh, and her hand was on mine.
Halfway.
We’d adjusted to each other like our eyes to the darkness.
PartyNextDoor provided the after-party playlist, planting pleasure in our psyche with sounds of the sensual.
‘I want to kiss you, girl
- I want to love you…
Am I moving too fast?
Fuck that.’
Some say that if you wait for the right time, you may wait forever.
I didn’t want to continuously be the common denominator of my own deprivation. I didn’t want to wake up the next morning still wondering why I didn’t let her possess my protrusion. I didn’t want to ask myself why I didn’t physically feel the blaze from within her engulf and melt our souls as we merged. I didn’t want to ask myself why her legs didn’t spread like a cross-bridge and allow my entry into an abyss of bliss.
I wasn’t going to wake up wondering.
I swiftly leaned in to kiss her.
Danistopped me abruptly.
“I’m involved.”
I already knew that.
I also knew the person she was involved with, wasn’t.
“Where is he?” Rhetorical research.
“He’s busy.”
“It’s your birthday…”
PartyNextDoor interjected.
‘You got niggas…and I got bitches…but I want you…’
“If you can’t behave yourself, I’m going to the bedroom.” Dani threatened.
“I can’t behave in the bedroom, either.” Jack Daniels rebutted. Her hand never left mine.
I wasn’t going to wake up wondering. I picked myself up and tried again.
You were bound to overstep boundaries when going after what you wanted.
A woman wants to feel wanted.
“I told you, I’m involved.” She pulled away, but remained seated.
“I’m sorry, I just-“
Dani didn’t let me execute my excuse before attacking me.
She pushed me against the wall of the couch, straddled my waist and planted her perfect, plush lips upon mine. Her tongue infiltrated my entryway, bypassing teeth and grappling my tongue. All breath left me, and became hers.
I grabbed the back of her neck, pushing her face closer to mine.
I invited her inside.
“Fuck it.” She gasped in between breaths.
She didn’t have to tell me twice.
