Monday, July 26, 2010

65. My First Friend With Benefits

I'm sure Dane thought I was retarded. Or maybe he was used to that kind of reaction. Yes, that was it, I was probably just another girl frozen and shaken by his mere presence.

A week or so after that day of embarrassment, I was in the elevator heading to class. The doors were closing when a dark brown hand flung through the doors, causing them to open again. And there he was. He looked up and flashed me that dazzling smile. I grabbed railing and leaned my body weight against the dingy wall.

Do not pass out in the elevator, I told myself.

There were a few other people in the elevator already and he stood in front of me. I studied the back of him, the rich, smooth brown color of the back of his neck. I thought about what it would be like to kiss his neck, just below his ear. I looked at his perfectly sculpted triceps clearly visible below the hem of his T-shirt, his perfectly plump ass that I was tempted to punch, just to see how rock hard it was.

By the time we got to the third floor, I realized I was holding my breath. I exhaled as the other people filed out and the doors closed again. It was just me and him in there.

"What would you do if I pulled this?" He asked as he reached for the emergency stop button.

"DON'T," I said with fear in my eyes, my hands gripping the rail.

He looked at me, curiously.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing. I prayed for the doors to open so I could run as far and as fast as I could (which was probably a half mile, at about 3 miles an hour). The front of his shirt said "Track and Field." Awesome. If he didn't think I was retarded before, this little stunt should do the trick.

The doors opened and I ran-walked as fast as I could. It was that walk you do when you you're about to pee your pants, but if you run too fast you'll pee but if you don't get there fast enough you'll pee.

I took the stairs to my 10th-floor dorm room when I got back from class. I wasn't about to risk another run-in with Dane.

Out of breath and wheezing from the climb, I sat down in front of my computer and saw that I had a new Facebook message waiting for me.

It was from Dane.

I panicked. I couldn't open it. What if it said, Dear Whitney, I just filed a restraining order against you, and I just thought I'd give you a heads up about it. So, yeah, it would be great if you could stay 300 yards away from me at all times. -Dane

I held my breath and opened it.

Wanna make out?

WHAT!? Did I read that right? Did he send it to the right person?? I read it over and over again. There was no other way to read it. Maybe it was a joke, and he was sitting there with all of his beautiful friends waiting to see how I'd react. I'd seen enough high-school movies where guys make bets to screw some poor unsuspecting girl over.


I hit send and suddenly wanted to throw up. What was I thinking? Even if he was being serious, was he really just going to walk down here, make out for a minute, then high five me and peace out?

Two minutes later he was at my door. I froze. Should I go brush my teeth? Did I have gum nearby? Was I wearing a cute bra just in case things went further than just a make out? Oh god, what if he thought I was going to have sex with him? I was a big ol virgin, and I was quite sure that he had a big ol big-boy part. I winced just thinking about it.

"Can I come in?"

"Ummmm, sure."

Now what was I supposed to do? Should I stand up? Walk over to my tiny bunk bed? Offer him a drink?

He came in, closed the door, and sat down on my bean bag chair. My palms were sweating, my mouth was dry. I couldn't lock it up.

"So, to the bed?" he asked.

My stomach lurched.

"To the bed."

He got up first so his back was to me as I tried to stand up on shaking knees. He patted the area of my bed next to him. When I sat down I'm pretty sure he could see my body vibrating. I'd never been so nervous. I'd never wanted to make out and throw up at the same time as bad as I did right then.

He pressed his big soft lips against mine, and the shaking stopped. His lips were so warm, his hand on my neck. He slowly lied me down on the bed. My stomach flip flopped. His tongue grazed my lips and my dry mouth was gone. He kissed down the side of my neck, swirling his tongue in circles on his way down. He brushed his lips against my collar bone and moved back up my neck.

I half prayed for a hickey, just so I had proof it had actually happened.

I slipped my hand under his shirt and about died. I'd never felt abs like that. I had to see it.

"Can this come off?"

"Only if yours does, too."

I didn't even think twice. I ripped my shirt off as fast as I could, happy to discover I was wearing a pink bra.

He laughed and lifted his shirt over his head.

My jaw dropped. I didn't even want to kiss him because that would mean I'd have to look away from his body. His chest was rock hard, his abs were defined and separated into eight perfect rectangles.

I don't even know how long we made out. It could have been two minutes, it could have been two hours. Time stood still. When he stood up to leave, I got up to put my shirt back on and he kissed me again, pushing me back against my dresser.

Then in one quick swoop he grabbed the back of my thighs and lifted me effortlessly onto my dresser without breaking the kiss. It was the hottest thing anyone had ever done to me in my 18 years. I sat there, stunned as he stepped away, pulled his shirt over his head and left.

1 comment:

  1. Those "grab-your-ass-sit-you-on-top-of-something" kisses are THE BEST!