by Rae Matthews
As the evening comes to an end, the bartender asks if we are interested in dessert. Bash looks at me expectantly, as if he is waiting on me to decide. I grab the dessert menu and see something called Sinful Seven. The menu describes it as:
Seven layers of Sin are waiting for you to devour them. This is the chocolate lover’s dream dessert. It begins with a bottom layer of chocolate graham cracker crust, followed by a thin layer of a moist devil’s food cake, topped with a thin layer of white chocolate-infused cream cheese frosting, but we are not done yet. Next comes a rich milk chocolate mousse, followed by a white chocolate mousse to tickle your taste buds. Finally, we finish it off with whipped cream, garnished with a chocolate-covered cherry.
“I could go for a Sinful Seven, but only if you will share it with me.” I say to Bash as I look up from the menu.
“I think I would enjoy being sinful with you”, he responds seductively. Bash flashes me a look that I haven’t seen yet, but its meaning is abundantly clear.
I look back at the bartender and say, “One Sinful Seven, please. To go!”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, WE ARE at my apartment’s door. Bash comes up to my apartment with me and is patiently waiting as I unlock my door. I feel like a schoolgirl about to lose her virginity, and I have a hard time finding the keyhole. Bash finally has to take my hand and he calmly helps me unlock the door. The touch of his hand on mine makes me want to melt right then and there.
I open the door and flip on the lights, but nothing happens. Shit. The fuse must have blown again. This was not part of my plan. The maintenance man was supposed to fix the problem a few months ago, but clearly hasn’t gotten around to it yet. I start to grab my phone to call him, but then an idea flashes in my mind. Hey, let’s run with this. Everything happens for a reason, right? I look back at Bash and see him smiling.
“I did not plan this, I swear. The fuses blow out sometimes.” I smile and hope he believes me.
“No problem, where is your fuse box?” he asks while handing me the small Styrofoam box filled with our Sinful Seven dessert.
“It’s over in the closet, but you don’t have to worry about it. It’s kind of a pain in the ass. I can deal with it in the morning. I have some candles we can light for now.” I say with a cute little smile.
Bash just looks back at me and smiles. I’m pretty sure he knows where this is going, and since he followed me up here, I’m also pretty sure he is prepared for what will be coming this time, cause if he isn’t, there will be a mad dash to the store because in all of my planning I fucking forgot to pick up condoms.
I grab the little flashlight hanging from my keychain and click it on so I can see my way around the kitchen cupboards. I grab the five candles I own and a lighter and place them around the room, lighting them as I go. I set one next to my CD player, and thank god that I have backup batteries ready to go. I flip the switch on, and press play.
I thought I would start my CD mix off a little on the slow side, since I don’t figure him for the say ‘go’ and jump into the action type of guy, and to be honest, I could use a little time to mentally prepare myself for this. I hear Replay by Zendaya and know that I remembered to put the right CD in. I move to the kitchen to grab my bottle of wine from the refrigerator. As I start to uncork the bottle, I feel Bash come up behind me and place one arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He moves my hair to one side, exposing my neck. I can feel his breath on my skin, and my heart races with the knowledge that his lips are dangerously close to my body.
I don’t want to seem too eager to just jump into bed, so I use every ounce of willpower I have not to pivot on my heels and kiss the crap out of him. I remain facing the counter and focus on uncorking the bottle, which has now become a very difficult task. I feel him kissing my neck and the automatic goose bumps that follow his touch. I let out a shiver and want to allow my body to relax into his embrace.
I finally get the bottle uncorked and slowly turn to Bash. I look deeply into his eyes and wait for him to kiss me. He doesn’t disappoint me. Just as I’m about to say something, he moves closer to me and I feel his lips on mine. His gentle embrace reminds me how much I have missed being with someone in this way. He is both tender and passionate all at once, and I just want him to rip my clothes off and beg him to take me right here on the kitchen floor. I wrap my arms around him and he leans me against the counter, kissing me harder. As we come up for air, he takes a small step back.
“Sorry, I have been wanting to do that all night,” he admits shyly.
I smile and say, “That’s ok, I’ve been waiting for you to.
Maybe we should take this, and the wine, over to the couch.”
He responds with an even bigger smile. Bash turns to walk to the couch. I’m a little flustered by my own brazenness, so when I go to grab the glasses and the wine, I knock the cork onto the floor. As I bend down to pick it up, it is in that moment when I hear the worst sound imaginable. The one sound that I cannot escape from. A knock at the door, or the shattering of the wine bottle could have been ignored or taken care of quickly. Anything else would have been preferable to hear over the screaming sound of my jeans ripping. That long, right up the ass crack ripping noise that screams at the world that my sure-thing jeans have just died. Normally, I would just let out a sigh of sorrow for my lost friend, have a moment of silence as I remove them, and lay them out in front of me to examine and verify the wound. Not tonight. Instead, they have chosen their time of death to occur at the most inopportune moment. A moment that I have been waiting and longing for.
I realize that I have just been standing still on the spot in the kitchen, struggling to continue breathing. I remain suspended here in my disbelief, hoping that it didn’t really just happen, but nevertheless knowing that it did, as evidenced by the cool air I feel on my exposed ass. I’m not really sure what to do next. Maybe Bash didn’t hear it. Maybe I can just sit down and when the pants come off, I will just toss them aside so he will never know of my private humiliation.
I finally grab the glasses and the wine, along with my nerve, and move over to the couch. I quickly sit down next to Bash and pour us each a glass. As I set the wine on the coffee table and turn towards Bash, I try to see if there is any indication that he knows. He looks back at me with a big smile on his face. Is it that because he knows that my jeans have decided to take fashion advice from a hospital gown, or is it that he knows he is about to get laid? I just can’t tell. Do I say something about it and make it a joke, or leave it alone until he says something? I didn’t have to wait too long for my answer.
“So, are we going to talk about the fact that your jeans have just ripped apart like a hooker’s legs on a Friday night?” he asks and starts laughing, like it is the funniest thing he has heard all week.
I turn bright red and want to run to the bathroom to hide until he leaves, but his eyes are kind, not cruel, so I start to smile. The next thing I know, I’m laughing with him.
“Yeah, I was hoping you didn’t hear that.” I finally say, trying to catch my breath.
“You mean the screeching roar of fabric being torn apart like a screeching banshee? Sorry, but there was no chance that I wasn’t gonna hear that.” And with that, the uncontrollable laughter starts all over again.
AFTER WE CALMED DOWN FROM the hilarity of the untimely death of my favorite jeans, we started talking about other embarrassing moments, which was incredibly entertaining and made me feel even better. I started to actually feel happy that my jeans betrayed me, because it gave us some time to sit back and relax. Up until said incident, the evening has had so much built up sexual tension; had we continued on that at that rate, we may have just exploded all over each other, making it a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of night. I’m glad the energy changed course, because when it does finally happen, I want to take it all in and remember every touch.
However, the bottle of wine is now gone, and I can hear Usher’s U Got it Bad playing, which means Kings of Leon’s Sex on Fire
is up next. That knowledge takes my mind back to wanting him to rip off my clothes, since that is what I fantasized about while putting together my playlist. When there is a break in conversation, I start to get up to retrieve another bottle from the fridge, but Bash grabs my hand. I turn back and look at him.
“I’ll be right back. I’m just grabbing another bottle for us.”
He is stone faced and completely serious when he responds, which seems somewhat out of character for him. “I don’t need any more wine. I just need you.”
I sit back down and take a deep breath. My heart starts racing, and I can feel my lady parts scream YES! in unison with my heart. I’m ready, take me. Take me now, please. He moves his arm to put it on the back of the couch, then leans forward to kiss me, his hand on my leg squeezing just hard enough to excite me. I lean forward to meet him, and our lips touch. The contact is soft and sensual, and it sends goose bumps down my back. I feel his hand move from my knee up to my thigh, and then travel around to my back. He pulls me to him, closer to his warm, perfect body. I reach for his shirt and begin unbuttoning it. One by one, the task seems to take a lifetime. I finally undo the last button and move toward his shoulders to remove the shirt. I push it down his muscular arms and toss it onto the floor. As I caress his chest, he reaches for my own shirt, grabbing a handful and pulling it over my head, revealing the lace bra that I selected just for him.
He stands and reaches out for my hand. I give it, and as I get up he leads me to my bed. Before I know it, we are both naked and I’m lying down, his eyes glued to me appreciatively. I hear the glorious sound of a foil wrapper in his hand. Thank god he came prepared tonight. He crawls onto to bed towards me, caressing my legs as he moves up my body. He uses his hands so gently that he succeeds in teasing me without even trying. He reaches my clitoris with his thumb, and happily introduces himself. My body screams for him. I want him so much, I can feel myself letting go when he stops to move my already open legs even wider. He slowly brings his hands up to my waist and pulls me closer. Leaning down, he kisses my right nipple, expertly using his tongue to tickle and tease it. He lifts his head just enough to blow a soft breeze across the nipple, making it tighten and stand at attention. My body quivers and screams louder for him. As he does the same to my left nipple, I whisper, “I want you.” I look into his eyes once more, and I can feel his hand move down my body. He gives me a gentle rub, sending a vibration of sensation up my body.
Bash whispers back, “Yes, you do, and I want you, too.” He only needs to move ever so slightly before I feel him inside me. As he fills me completely, I let out a moan, and he answers with one of his own. Hearing his primal call, I want to explode right then. Before I can, he pulls back and thrusts into me, deliciously filling me repeatedly and unrelentingly.
He leans down to kiss my neck and I feel my hands move on their own volition, grabbing a hold of his back and pulling him closer. My chest meets his, and he reaches out to move the hair away from my neck. As he kisses, my neck I let out another moan. I’m going to scream if he moves to the rhythm of the music. But then I realize that I might be in trouble, because Scream by Avenged Sevenfold is next on my playlist. Sure enough, the song changes, and his motions speed up, following the new rhythm.
He reaches down and grabs my ass. I wrap my legs around his waist, not sure what is about to happen, when he picks me up and hoists me up against the wall. He starts kissing me with so much passion and intensity that it’s hard to remember to breath. Our bodies are moving as one, and I feel so incredibly good. He makes me feel so good in fact that I don’t realize that I have been biting down on his lower lip until he pulls away and says, “Ouch”. I look contrite, but I see that he is smiling so I don’t worry about it too much. We whip around back to the edge of the bed, and he pulls my legs from around his waist and puts them on his shoulders. I grab the edge of the bed for leverage as he thrusts harder and deeper into me. I feel myself finally releasing with a shudder of pleasure that ripples through my entire body, I let out a scream, and after a few more thrusts, I feel Bash shudder with pleasure, too.
I CAN FEEL THE WARM sun beating down on my face, telling me that morning has come, and that it is probably time to wake up. I keep my eyes closed, knowing full well that opening them means that last night is officially over. My perfect night with Bash is now in the past, becoming just a memory. As long as I keep my eyes closed, I can pretend that he is in the kitchen cooking, and will be back any moment to serve me breakfast in bed and then have his way with me again.
I hear my phone buzzing repeatedly on my nightstand. Ugh. Who could that be? Whoever it is should know that I’m choosing to avoid reality for the foreseeable future. The phone buzzes again, and with a reluctant groan, I finally decide that it’s time to reenter the real world. I slowly open my eyes and stretch my arm out to the empty spot in my bed. I slowly run my hand over the sheet where Bash had laid and wished that he had agreed to spend the night.
I reach for my phone and see the notification for eight text messages. “Oh crap,” I say to no one in particular and slap myself on the forehead. I forgot to tell the girls that I was home safe and that Bash was not a serial killer out to prey on innocent-looking bartenders. I’m genuinely surprised that they didn’t race over here and pound on my door to make sure that I’m alive. Really, they would just be using that as an excuse to hear all the details of my date. Then I realize, fuck yeah, it’s Thursday. They are stuck at work, freaking out alone. I have all day before they are free to bang down my door and demand all the details.
I’m just about to open the text messages and send quick replies back to let them know that I’m alive when I hear a knock at my door. “No!” I say in one of those deeply shocked tones, where the ‘o’ sound never seems to end. No way did one or both of them take the day off. Maybe if I’m really quite, whoever it is will just go away. I love my friends and fully intend to brag up every glorious minute with them, but I just want a little time to myself to replay the events over and over in my head first.
I hear knocking again on the door, only this time it’s a little louder, and it’s followed by, “Well, she isn’t answering and I don’t hear anything, so should I use my key or should I call the police? I don’t want to see a bloody mess if she really is dead.”
Oh my god. Betty. They fucking called Betty to check on me! I mean really, what the fuck did they really think was going to happen? Bash saves me from his horny grandpa, only to stab me to death after giving me the best sex I have ever had?
I run to the door and pop the dead bolt open just in time to see Betty walking away, still talking on the phone.
“Hey Betty! What did you need?” I ask as casually as I can muster.
“Oh good, you’re safe. I have your friend Sadie on the phone, and she said she was worried, since you were not responding to your phone. She wanted me to check on you, since you were out with a man last night.” Betty informs me while walking back to my door, holding out the phone.
“I’m so sorry she bothered you. I was in the bath and didn’t hear my phone,” I say as I put the phone up to my ear.
I scold Sadie for bothering Betty and tell her I will text her in a little bit. I then confirm that I am definitely safe and hang up. Handing the phone back to Betty, I apologize again that she was bothered with this and that it was all for nothing.
“Oh, no bother honey, a little excitement gets the blood flowing. But don’t worry, I wasn’t going to come in, just in case you were in little pieces on the floor. I saw a cow get butchered once, and that was enough to keep me awake for a week. I would have been up for a year if I had seen you in bite-sized pieces.”
I’m in shock. I have no words for her. Bite-sized pieces? Really? So I’m not just dead, I’m dinner. Brushing off the shock, I thank her again, and then turn to go back into my apartment.
I grab my phone again and see that not only did I have eight text messages, I actually also have fifteen missed calls awaiting me. How in the hell did I slee
p through that many calls? Man, Bash must have fucked me into a coma.
I listen to the voicemails and read the messages, and send quick responses to both Megan and Sadie, telling them that I have the night off, so they can grab a pizza and come over for the details if they want to after work. It didn’t take long for them to confirm that they would be here right after work, and that I better wait for both of them to arrive before I divulge any dirty details.
I’m just about to respond again when a text from Bash comes through.
Bash: I had a really great time last night. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but I had some things I had to do this morning and I knew that with you in my arms, I would never want to get up. When can I see you again?
IT HAS BEEN ABOUT A week and a half since Bash and I have been able to see each other. Between work and other obligations, it seems like we would end up like one of those 1950’s movies where the couples meet then shares a brief moment in time, but are then left to wonder what might have been while looking back on their lives when they are old and grey, telling their respective grandkids about love lost. If one night, a bunch of text messages, and a few phone calls are all I will have to look back on for my time with Bash, then I guess I will have to just be happy with that.
Megan and Sadie think I’m insane and should be committed for even thinking such a thing. They were more than jealous when they came over to hear all of the sexy details about our date. After they went home, they may or may not have sexually molested their boyfriends. Their boyfriends may or may not have sent me text messages the next morning, wanting to know what the fuck we talked about that night, and emphasizing that we should return to that topic more often.
