98. The Juicy Stuff

This post is dedicated to AP, who emailed me and said, "Oh and by the way get to the juicy stuff. No one wants to hear about you and Cayden holding hands anymore."

This one's for you, A.

Mom, dad, coworkers...maybe not for you. Seriously. Stop reading.

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I couldn't drive home fast enough. My entire body was relaxed and calm from the massage, but my sex drive was raging. If my car weren't so tiny and it weren't slightly illegal, I would have pulled over on the side of the road, thrown the car in park, and straddled Cayden right then and there. I know he wouldn't have complained, and I'm sure we would have gotten a honking-ovation from all the cars lined up in rush hour traffic. Nothing like a little curb-side entertainment to say "Welcome to Texas!"

But I locked it up. If I could hang on to my virginity for 22 years, then I could keep my legs together for 10 more minutes.

Cayden squeezed my knee as if he were inside my head listening in on my sexually-frustrated one-sided conversation. The squeeze seemed to say, "Don't worry. We're almost there." Even though he had no idea where we were. He rested his head back in the seat and looked out at Dallas traffic.

I finally saw my exit and my heart started thudding harder and harder. So close. I exited and pointed out a few restaurants on my street, but I was pressing the gas too hard to linger in front of any of them for longer than a finger point. We had shit to do.

I parked in the parking garage and shouldered his backpack while he man-handled the bigger bag out of my backseat. I took him the scenic route to my apartment: past the waterfall, the pool, the hot tub, along side the gym.

"Wow, this is really nice." Cayden said, stopping to admire the amenities. He was still getting used to the fact that my apartment came with all of that and I paid half as much as he did for just a bedroom. But there's really no comparison when you're talking about London and Dallas.

I unlocked my door and walked in, surprised at how clean I'd left it. It even smelled clean. Cayden rolled his bag in and set it on the floor in the living room. He looked around curiously.

"It's so weird. I mean, I've already seen it on the webcam when you gave me a tour, but now I'm actually here. I'm in your apartment. I'm in Texas," he said, I think realizing for the first time that this was actually real.

"Want the 5-second tour?" I asked. "That's the kitchen, kitchen table, living room, indoor patio, don't ask me why the patio is indoors," I said, standing in the living room and pointing at things in site. Then I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my bedroom. "And this, well, this is where I talk to you," I said, pointing to my bed.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. But what I heard when we stood there with our bodies pressed together wasn't his heartbeat or mine. It was both of our stomachs growling in unison. Buzzkill.

"So, I know we have dinner reservations later, but do you have something I can snack on? I haven't eaten for hours."

I abandoned thoughts of sex for the moment, because if anything can take the place of sex in my mind, it's food. I opened the pantry and the fridge.

"Well, it looks like we have cereal—but no milk—oatmeal, pancake mix, cream of wheat, and bread. Oh, and pizza rolls." Apparently I'd overdone it on the breakfast items.

"What's a pizza roll?" he asked with an amused look on his face.

"Pizza rolls it is! Go make yourself comfortable and I'll pop these in the oven."

Cayden sprawled out on the couch while I arranged the pizza rolls in two perfect rows on the cookie sheet, each one slanted at the same 45-degree angle. OCD? Who, me? Then I looked across the bar and into the living room at Cayden. There he was, sitting on my couch, in my apartment, in Texas. And then it was suddenly real to me.

I tossed the sheet in the oven, scattering my perfectly placed rolls, but I didn't care.

I bounced over to the couch and slid in next to him. I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and rested my cheek against his broad chest.

"Your'e here," I said.

"I'm here," he responded, resting his cheek on my head.

That's what we'd always wanted. We'd always talked about how great it would be to come home to each other after a long day of work, pop open a bottle of wine, and lounge on the couch, talking about our days. I wanted that forever. I turned on the TV (a giant CRT TV with bunny ears and everything) and saw that one of our favorite shows was playing on one of my only channels, King of Queens on channel 27. I wanted to curl up next to him and watch it every night.

The oven beeped peeled myself away from Cayden and King of Queens to retrieve the scattered rolls. I lined them up neatly on a plate and sprinkled some salt over them.

"Here you go. Your first experience with pizza rolls!"

I taught him how to bite into them without burning the roof of his mouth or having the insides launch out the corners. Before long, he was a pizza-roll pro.

I'm sure you're thinking "King of Queens? Pizza Rolls? Oh, what, are you wearing sweatpants, too?" It doesn't sound sexy, I know. And no, pizza rolls aren't an aphrodisiac by any means. But there was just something about doing something normal, something that other couples get to do like sitting around watching crappy TV and eating frozen foods, that really turned me on.

The show ended and the plate was empty.

"Want to go to the bedroom?" Cayden asked with a knowing smile.

"Or..." I said, standing up in front of him. "We could stay right here." And I dropped onto his lap, straddling his waist. My arms around his neck, he kissed me hard. I waited for a hint of pizza breath, but tasted nothing but warmth. My whole body tingled. I felt his hands move from around my waist to my thighs. I silently praised myself for remembering to shave that morning. His hands slid up my thighs while he kissed me, moving slowly under my transformer dress.

I reached down and played with the hem of his shirt, tugging on it slightly. He helped me pull his shirt up over his head. Then I finally had a chance to sit back and admire that body I'd be missing for so many months.

He'd grown his chest hair out because I told him I wanted to see what it looked like. Truth was, I didn't like the stubble rubbing against my face when I'd try to sleep on his shaven chest. I usually hated body hair, hated it with a passion, but there was something so sexy and masculine and Cayden's. It was the perfect amount, not a creepy gorilla man and not an even creepier adolescent boy. It was just perfect. I ran my fingers over his chest and smiled.

He pulled me back against him and his fingers found the edge of my panties. He kissed my neck while he pulled them to the side. I almost died right there. The second he touched me I could have died and gone to heaven a very happy woman. I tortured myself by pulling myself off of him and kneeling on he floor in front of him.

I was so eager I couldn't stay on any one base too long before I got antsy and tried to steal He sat up eager as I unbuttoned his pants.He helped me slide his pants and boxers down his legs. My face was burning, my heart was beating, and my legs were shaking with anticipation. Right there in front of me was proof that Cayden was just as excited to be there.

I have this thing about penises. Sometimes I think they're hilarious, and I just want to play with them; swing them around like a helicopter or pull them down and then watch them fling back up and slap against the guy's stomach. (Oh c'mon, like you've never done that). And sometimes they make me want cry because they're all limp and sad looking. Like I want to tell it a joke to cheer it up. And sometime they turn me on like you wouldn't believe. Thankfully, this was one of those times.

I started kissing down his flat stomach when I suddenly remembered my surroundings: naked boy, black fabric couch. Naked boy,black fabric COMMUNAL couch might I add. I stopped and looked up.

"So, the bedroom might not be a bad idea."


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