Up All Night: A True (Enough) Story

by Cynthia Dane

  One of my minor fears, however, was that he would come out, get dressed, and bugger off. I prepared myself for that. This was a hookup, after all. Sure, we had a nice date first. But I was under no delusion that he would come cuddle me in bed unless he was up for a round two. With men, you honestly have no idea. At least he was young?

  His shower was short. By the time he came back out, still as gloriously naked as a statue of Adonis, I had regained my composure and considered going to the bathroom. Because unlike my neighbor’s girlfriend back in the share house, I understood the dire need for a girl to do such things after intercourse.

  Hadrian flung back the bed covers and crawled in next to me. He picked up the TV remote and flipped through Japanese channels.

  Of course he landed on porn.

  “Iyaaa daaaa!” the female porn actress cried out while she enacted one of the cringiest scenes you’ve ever seen. “Itai! Dame yo!”

  If you don’t know Japanese, I’ll tell you that these are the types of phrases that get men arrested for assault charges back in America. Unfortunately, they’re so ubiquitous in Japanese porn – alongside that face and body language broadcasting extreme duress – that the first thing out of my mouth was, “Change it, please.”

  “Yes, yes, don’t like.”

  “Kimoi.” Cringey. Creepy. Gross-feeling.

  “Sou. Kimoi.”

  This was probably the first man I ever met who would readily agree with that. I didn’t press my luck when he changed it to open heart surgery, though.

  Yes.

  Hadrian changed our post-sex viewing to fucking open heart surgery.

  (I don’t take medical shit well.)

  “It’s interesting,” he said.

  “Really? You like this?”

  He didn’t push me away when I cuddled up next to him, hand plucking a few curly chest hairs. “Yes. Science is interesting.”

  I was grossed the fuck out, but this was still better than distressing porn. Besides, I could ignore it and focus on him instead.

  Hadrian changed the channel. Western porn. Well, soft core porn. That was one curvy blond woman shaking her ass at the camera, anyway.

  “Oh, this I like!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You like that type of woman?”

  He waggled his eyebrows at me. “It is the best.”

  “You ever date an American woman before?”

  “No, not before you.”

  “Really? So? What do you think?”

  He bit his lip, eyes wandering as he collected his thoughts. “It’s nice. I like.”

  Good answer. “That’s why you want to move. You want to date American women.”

  “Ahhh… maybe?”

  Well, ladies, you’re welcome. Because of my great and terrible sacrifice, hunks like Hadrian are encouraged to move to America to sex us up with their talented cocks and great-smelling cologne. (Tip: Don’t get offended if they run off to the shower afterward. You were so much woman they needed a little time to themselves.)

  The channels finally settled on a news report. The same one I had seen a million times that month: some woman was out there getting busted for growing weed, which is one of the biggest scandals possible in anti-drug Japan. Still, I’d take that over porn and open-heart surgery, thanks. Renewed with Hadrian’s flirtations, I slipped my hand down his stomach and teased his abdomen. He continued to bite his lip and regard me with curiosity.

  Finally, he laughed, throwing back the covers. “Yes! Touch my dick!”

  Confession: I find guys who say dick during sex to be absolutely hilarious for all the wrong reasons. But when Hadrian said that with such excitement, well, I had to touch his dick!

  Aaaand not just with my hands, although they were pretty busy too.

  I’ve already told you that Hadrian had one of the most beautiful cocks I had ever seen. Since making that assessment, I made it my duty to get a closer look at that thing that brought me so much sexual relief in my time of hormonal need. And maybe give it my personal thanks with a kiss or five thousand.

  “Is it okay?” I asked, my intentions so clear that I daresay he wondered why my mouth wasn’t already on him.

  “Yes, yes.”

  My God. What a dick.

  I had never in my life had that thought with a side of positivity. But what the hell else could I think once my mouth was on that thing? I don’t care what Hadrian thought about his cock. I worshipped that thing like it was made for my mouth to suck and my tongue to tease. The whole length of it was so satisfying to kiss that I cursed biology for not letting this man stay hard for the rest of my fucking life – or at least the night. I would have sucked Hadrian’s cock for the rest of my trip even if I knew it would never go in my cunt again. Honey, it was that good.

  (Did I mention the man clearly shaved or waxed the business down there? Because he did. I was shocked. And pleasantly surprised. Made everything ten times better!)

  “You like?” I asked with a kiss to his tip.

  You should have seen his face. “It’s perfect.”

  Hear that? I was fucking perfect!

  Hadrian flopped onto his pillow and covered his face with his hands. No wonder. That totally-not-small dick grew rock hard beneath my hand and mouth. I would have taken him to completion, but then my thoughts turned to… if he came, would he be able to fuck me again? Probably not! Fuck that!

  “Okay,” I said with a grin. “That’s enough for you. What are you going to do for me?”

  I don’t think he understood a word I said, but he got the message. “We go again?”

  “Fuck yes we go again. What are you waiting for?” He was hard again! Get in me! There were more orgasms to be had and stars to see!

  He flipped me onto my back again, that playful demeanor too much for my poor heart to bear. Hadrian covered me in eager kisses that had gone up in sweet quality since we briefly made out on the couch. I grabbed his hand and directed it between my legs.

  “I touched your dick? Now you touch my pussy.” A girl had to make sure she was ready.

  The man was as relentless with his fingers as he was with his hips. I think I broke his brain when I told him to take me two fingers at a time. Oh, let’s be real. I broke his brain about ten times that night.

  “Wow.” The more he gasped in awe over my body and what it could do, the more I loved it. “Wow. So hot.”

  Did he mean the act itself or my insides? ‘Cause I’m sure both were true.

  He kissed me again. The news reports continued to play on the TV, and I didn’t give a fuck. “I need you.” Hadrian’s voice was as raspy as mine by that point. “I take you. Now.”

  I was not saying no to that. Because, funny, I had been hoping he would say that. And I didn’t even have to tell him to get a condom this time!

  The second time around was more intense than the first. With the driving desire for sex out of our systems, we were able to achieve a more intimate moment now. And by more intimate, I mean he was more attuned to what my body did and I completely lost myself to the undulations of crazy sex.

  This was it. I knew this was going to be the last time tonight. For all I knew, it would be my last time with Hadrian. Maybe my last chance for sex with a guy for months. (Hey, you never know!) I had to make the most of it. I had to enjoy every second of it, because even though Hadrian was young, he probably wouldn’t be able to go a third time. I probably pushed it with a second time as it was. I know that his breathing was erratic and his movements so deliberate that he pushed himself to new limits. (I did that. I made him push himself because he needed me one more time.)

  “Come here.” That was the only thing he said in English. Everything else was a mixture of Japanese, Turkish, Greek, God knew what. Whatever phrases in whatever language that popped into his head was an instant lesson for me, the woman enjoying every hard thrust and grip to her body. I might have enjoyed it a little too much. Because the only time he spoke English again was when I moaned so loudly he was compelled to
stop and ask, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes!” I sounded like a dying cat, but my pussy was dying because of how good he was, all right? “Don’t stop!”

  He did one better. He lifted my legs to give himself the deepest penetration possible. Bonus? He looked me right in the eyes, his glossy brown ones so consumed with lust that I couldn’t help but moan like that again.

  I watched him come before I felt it.

  Men don’t often show us their vulnerability. This goes for men all over the world. Perhaps I’ve seen more of it back home than I have abroad, regardless of the guy’s ethnicity or nationality. But when they come like that? And let you watch? Doesn’t matter if this guy is yours for only a night or for the rest of your life. That’s fucking special. It also ensures you’re never, ever going to forget him – and he’ll probably never forget you.

  Hadrian flashed me a wan smile before slowly pulling out. I should have enjoyed that moment a little more. Because the look of panic blowing up his face once he looked down kinda ruined everything.

  “Shit!” He ripped off the condom and tossed it in the trash before I had a chance to figure out what happened. “Come on! Shower!”

  It wasn’t until I was halfway across the room, my poor body addled from sex and my brain fritzed to hell and back, that I realized the damn condom had broken.

  Chapter 8

  The hot water hit me the moment I entered the spacious shower. Hadrian didn’t bother to rinse himself off first. That detachable showerhead was immediately directed at my thighs, and it wasn’t with the intent of bringing me pleasure.

  In fact, me having another orgasm would’ve probably been a bad thing. Those contractions suck the swimmers up, you know!

  Now, I kick myself. Of course the condom broke, you idiots! Since when are the one-size-fits-all (ha!) condoms left around love hotel rooms gonna be big enough for a guy? Condoms run small in Japan. Hadrian was such a fucking piston that it was only a matter of time before a condom broke!

  God, why didn’t we use the ones I bought? They were still in my bag! Wow, dumb!

  Good job, girl. That’s what I thought as I sat on the edge of the bathtub and received the shower of my life. Hadrian wasn’t leaving anything up to chance. He looked to me for the briefest consent and plunged his fingers into me, making sure everything washed out.

  Damnit, why did it have to feel good, too? Fuck my stupid body that was so hormonal I was probably going to get pregnant based on principle.

  Fuuuuck.

  Hadrian finally rinsed himself off after fingering me for protection’s sake. I occasionally accepted the showerhead into my hand and directed it at my thighs. Damnit, what was the point? Damage was done. But whatever gave him peace of mind, I guess.

  “You okay?” he asked after handing me the showerhead a final time. “I finish.”

  “Sure.” My mind was still reeling. The date. The sex. The stupid condom breaking and ruining everything. Bet my stupid neighbor didn’t have to deal with this shit. “Thanks.”

  He wasn’t smiling when he grabbed a towel and left the shower. I remained there, sighing, wondering what my odds were that I was going to end up pregnant from this. I had been through such a dry spell with guys that I wasn’t on any kind of HBC and never got an IUD. The condom was the only thing standing between me and pregnancy. With a one-night stand? Really? I’d be far from the first woman, but why me?

  Might as well take a full shower while I was in there. The mood was officially over. I fully expected to walk out of there and find Hadrian dressed and ready to leave. The guy had accidentally came in me. That rooster was going to fly the coup before this hen could hatch an egg on the other side of the world.

  Hadrian was not getting ready to leave by the time I left the shower, towel wrapped around me and attitude curiously calm. He was even still naked, lying in bed with the remote control in his hand.

  Huh.

  “Okay?” he asked me. That was certainly a concerned edge to his voice. Was he inquiring after my wellbeing? Or was he concerned that he was going to be a daddy like his brother was a daddy to… how many kids? Five? Six?

  Hadrian may have almost been thirty and supposedly childless, but damnit, he wasn’t ready to catch up yet.

  “Yes. Okay.” I climbed in next to him. “Don’t worry. No baby.” There would be no babies, damnit.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry about it.” Hey, I decided not to worry about it. What was worrying going to do for me? I was still here tonight with a man I had a good time with. We had this room for the whole night. I didn’t want the mood ruined, but…

  Apparently, what I said relaxed Hadrian enough to let him close his eyes. “Okay. No worries. I sleep.”

  Typical man, ladies and gentlemen.

  I may have been severely lacking sleep lately, but I was too wired on caffeine, sex, and a broken condom to join him in snoozeville. So I messaged my friend and told her what happened, all while flipping the TV channel to a hilariously dubbed episode of Criminal Minds.

  “What happened???”

  “The condom broke.”

  “Holy fuck, girl.”

  “At least it was worth it?”

  Hadrian snored.

  I pulled the covers up around my chin. Maybe I should try to sleep. This was the first night I had in a long time where sleep was guaranteed. Not like Hadrian snored that loudly…

  I must have slept a little bit, because when I rolled over, the channel had changed, and Hadrian was awake again.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I’m okay. Can’t sleep.”

  Dear friends, I wish I could tell you that we spent the whole night awake because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I wish I could relay some of the more poignant things he talked about, namely what was on his mind with matters back home and his upcoming move to America. I didn’t talk much about myself. There wasn’t anything I wanted to say on a night like that, and anything I did have to whine about wasn’t anywhere near his level of worry.

  I was a woman on vacation. Hadrian was a man still trying to find his place in the world, wherever that place was. It hadn’t been Turkey. Or Greece. Maybe not Japan.

  But we did stay up all night. I forewent catching up on some much needed sleep so I could listen to him gush about his family, what he loved about his job (and what he didn’t,) the differences between Japan and Greece… he showed me music videos of his favorite artists back home, I confessed that I am obsessed with Turkish pop music (nobody he liked, of course, but we all can’t be huge fans of Hande Yener and Gülşen) and he told me that one of the reasons he had to leave his home country was because he was on “a list.” Because he protested the regime that had moved into his home – and because that same regime tried to make him one of their own. It was so eerily close to other moments in history that I could only shake my head. What can you say to that? Especially when I try to stay abreast of what’s happening around the world, but there are obvious blanks in my worldly knowledge.

  And especially since we were in bed. Naked. And we barely knew one another.

  “I go to America,” he said with more conviction. “If I can make more money in America, then I can bring my family to America. First I bring my brother so he can make more money. Then I bring his wife and children. Then I bring our parents, our other brothers and sisters. Brother’s wife’s family. My sisters’ in-laws. Everyone we know will come to America.”

  “Good luck,” I told him. “It’s hard in America, but I think you can do it.”

  “Japan is hard. America will be hard. Everything is hard, but we survive, yes?”

  It’s those sorts of statements that put a lot of your own troubles into perspective.

  I was endeared to this man that I barely knew. I wouldn’t say I was in love with him, goodness, but I had already decided I wanted to see him again before I left. Not just for the great sex, but because talking to him was more mentally stimulating than most of the other for
eigners I met in Japan. I suppose that went for me as well.

  I had no idea how to take it when he got dressed at five in the morning and bent down to kiss me goodbye.

  “Sorry, I need to go.” His thumb lingered on my brow. “I use phone later. Message you.”

  I didn’t believe him, but it was nice of him to give me that little bit of hope. This was a one-night stand. He knew I was leaving soon. He had his own plans to make. I was probably his last real fling in Japan before he went off to America to try to make his dreams come true. What else could I do besides cling to my fond memories and hope that he would message me again?

  He wouldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t. Yet I said, “All right. Talk to you later,” as he went over the brief checkout procedure and told me to finally get some sleep.

  Hadrian left a closed-off man. Me? I was opened up in more ways than one. I was also going to suffer from a serious lack of sleep yet again.

  At least this time it was worth it.

  Chapter 9

  There were no messages from Hadrian the next day. I went back to my share house, changed, took a nap, and went off to my concert with a mixture of feelings that I couldn’t put words to. Here I had one of the greatest nights with a man I would probably ever have in my life. He was hot, multilingual, driven to succeed, and so damn respectful that I was afraid he wouldn’t give me what I wanted (nay, needed) in the bedroom until he proved otherwise. He didn’t treat me like a piece of meat. He didn’t scare or threaten me. If anything, he was the consummate modern day gentleman. And he was gone.

  Sigh. Even now, thinking back on that surreal day where I went about my business and enjoyed other facets of my life, I get this strange sense of foreboding. I was still the same Cyndi. Nothing had changed in the sense that I had gone through something brand new to my life, although finally getting what I wanted was a nice change.

  No, what kept me hung up on Hadrian was the overall experience. That glimpse of life that slips through your fingers and makes you wonder if you’ll ever come close to that again.