Sushi Partner for Life

I’m not really sure of the exact moment lust turned into love. I do remember friendship turning to lust, however. We were seated across from one another at the table in my office. Our eyes locked and we lingered like that long enough to know there was something going on under the surface. He gave me butterflies every time I’d see him from that moment on. We came to have a joke between us about the “endorphins’ he gives me, because it seems that no matter how low I’d be feeling, or no matter how badly my back hurt, or how sick I was with a cold or the flu, somehow after each interaction with him, I always felt better. When I needed him most, I would send him a text message claiming, “Endorphins needed,” and would explain whatever the situation was. I would promptly receive a text message or phone call that would instantly make everything better.

Being many years younger than I, he was a bit of a brat. In the three years I’ve known him, his brattiness has dissipated, but he still has his moments. While I was pretty sure of his attraction for me, our “relationship” never amounted to anything more than friendship. Part of me attributed it to that brattiness. He just wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of knowing how he feels. A part of me knew that the feelings between us were much deeper than the casual relationship he had with his many girlfriends in the time that I’ve known him. But he wasn’t the type to say “I love you,” nor did he act upon the one time that we could have consummated our feelings when we spent several hours alone in my house playing cards. There was a “moment” that passed between us that day, but I was terrified to act upon it, not really sure it was what he wanted. That deciding second passed us by, and since that day there have been no other opportunities despite the fact we’ve spent a considerable amount of time together. I really thought our trip upstate was going to turn romantic, but a phone call with one of his “boys” killed my mood and left me crying at the day’s end. He spent a good half hour on the phone with his friend discussing his recent sexual trysts with another girl.

I really had no choice to put all romantic feelings for him aside, safely tucked away but not forgotten in the least. I’d still get pangs of jealousy when I’d see one of the girls he’d had encounters with. But I was happy for our close friendship, which was starting to enjoy more ups than downs.

Right around the holidays, he hit a rough patch in his life. He got a DWI on Christmas, which was followed by his birthday a week later. He had still been living with his mother up to that day, the day upon which awakening was told, “Pack your things and get out.”

I was determined to do whatever I could to help him, and offered him everything from paying for his college to letting him live in the basement apartment that was going un-used in my home. When he came to pick up the letter I wrote him for court, he responded to my offers with, “No I don’t want you to pay for college, but you can take me out to dinner. I’m dying for sushi.” We had previously decided we were “sushi partners for life.” I found it adorable one day when he called me while out for sushi with another girl to find out what he liked to eat. I tried to make myself feel better about my sushi partner “cheating” on me by focusing on the fact that he called ME while out with another girl. Who’s on your mind, baby? I couldn’t help but think to myself.

This request to go out to dinner gave me the slight endorphin rush that only he could give me; however, I didn’t put too much stock in us going out any time soon. A month earlier he asked me to the movies. That never happened. I figured this wouldn’t happen any time soon either.

That’s why I dropped everything the night he called and said, “Let’s go.” Always having been an optimist, I picked out my sexiest (but not too obvious) outfit. Being the ultimate optimist, I had already gone for a bikini waxing the day he mentioned sushi in the first place. Still deluding myself, that night I put on my sexiest red lace underwear, but in the back of my mind I knew there was less than a one-percent chance he’d ever see it.

Sushi was delicious and the conversation flowed. We were both on what I call the “high side of our bipolarity.” We were both in rare conversational form, fun and upbeat the whole night.

Our discussions continued into the car and on the ride home. This was the first time he had driven on one of our “dates,” and I was curious when he didn’t get off at the exit where we had left my car. As we continued along, I had no idea where he was taking me, and my stomach started to turn somersaults. I wondered if he noticed it was getting harder for me to breathe as my anticipation grew.

I berated myself for allowing myself to think this was going to lead to something sexual. I just knew that if I continued to think this way, he would read my thoughts and it would ruin everything. I forced myself to focus on the conversation at hand.

Unfortunately, the conversation was starting to slow to a halt. I was finding it more and more difficult to be witty and conversational as I thought about kissing him in the dark. I could hear that my breathing had become heavier and wondered if he could hear it too. The mood in the car seemed to change as sexual tension filled the air. I let myself wonder if the static electricity that develops could be felt by both people, or is it a phenomenon felt only by one. At least if I was the one driving, I could have felt his leg press against my hand as it rested upon the stick shift, and used that as a gauge of his feelings. Of course I mistakenly did that on the trip upstate, and he ended up talking at length about another girl. So much for gauges.

Suddenly I was surprised by his groping around on the front seat, his hand edging closer to my body. “Where’s my cell phone?” he mused.

“Do you want me to call it for you so we can find it?” I asked.

“Nah, it’s here somewhere,” he stated as his hand slid along the edge of my leg in the unsexiest of ways. Disappointment rose in my throat and I swallowed any further offer to help. Suddenly he squeezed my knee, and grinned at me in the dark when I looked up at him. My disappointment disappeared as confusion took its place. What’s that look for, I thought.

That was the extent of the moment, and we rode in silence, him having given up the search for his phone, and me becoming lost in the fantasy of how I wished the night would turn out. I still had no idea where he was taking me, but I recognized the route to the Hamptons and wondered if he would actually be taking me to the beach on this cold January night.

We arrived at Dune Road, and I gasped in awe at the reflection of the moon, almost full, on the water. As we traveled down the deserted stretch of road, my anticipation returned, and I bravely let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, he might kiss me.

Eventually he turned off on a side road. Being surrounded on all sides by water, we pulled to a stop. I thought my heart would pound right out of my chest as he put the car in park and shut off the ignition. The scene in front of me of the waves dancing upon the shore blurred as I got lost in the moment I was afraid wouldn’t come.

He scooted closer and reached behind my back and “pulled out” his cell phone from behind me. “Trying to steal this on me?” he said jokingly. I was pretty sure I had NOT been sitting on it the whole time. It was dark enough that he could have had it in his hand the whole time. Completely enraptured by the moment, I wouldn’t have noticed.

He stayed that close to me, and daringly I turned my head to look at him. An awkward moment, he began playing with some feature on his phone. My disappointment reappeared.

“Look at this,” he said after a minute or so, and scooted even closer to me. I leaned in more than necessary to see what he was talking about, and I could feel his hair against mine as our heads touched ever so lightly. I wanted more than anything to turn and look at him. But everything about me was frozen except for the heart beating wildly in my chest. I was positive he could feel it shaking the car.

The moon illuminated our silhouettes on the front seat, but I couldn’t make out what exactly he wanted me to look at on his phone. “Look,” he whispered.

“What am I looking at?” I asked in a much louder voice.

“Look at me,” he replied softly.

When I turned my head to look at him, his eyes focused on my lips, and he moved in towards me the mere two inches needed to kiss me. It was quick and soft and directly on my lips. Surprised, I didn’t even have time to part them, and I was sad it was over so quickly. With his eyes on mine, he leaned in again. This time I was expecting it, and I tilted my head to take in his kiss. It was another quick one, but this time we parted our lips ever so slightly, and the rush made me dizzy. It was succeeded by several quick kisses just like that, and finally our desire rose to the point that finally required a long, tongue-searching kiss that lasted for many beautiful moments. We continued this for several minutes when suddenly he pulled away. I was terrified to think this was the end of it. He pulled back and simply stared at me. Something in me at that moment knew this night hadn’t come to an end; it was only just beginning.

“Is it what you expected?” he asked me.

I quickly considered being coy with him and making some remark that I hadn’t thought about him like this. Aside from the fact he’d know it was a lie, I was afraid it would spark his brattiness to return. Instead I whispered my honest answer, “It’s exactly what I expected.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

He took my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine, locking them together just tightly enough for me to feel the passion that was built up inside of him. He continued to stare at me while he held my hand, and I wondered what would happen next. Normally the one to take control in any situation, something told me to just let him guide the events that were about to occur. “Do you want to take a walk?” he asked me.

It had been an unseasonably mild winter and was probably about 45 degrees outside. I didn’t hesitate to say “Sure.” Actually, it came out a barely audible whisper as I thought of lying with him on the beach sand in the moonlight.

As we got out of the car, he went around to the trunk, unlocked it, and pulled out a blanket. I bitterly let myself think for a second how many girls he had laid with on that blanket. But instantly I pushed those thoughts aside and told myself, he’s with you now. I smiled with anticipation.

We walked the beach for a few minutes in silence, bodies silhouetted in the moonlight, fingers entwined. His body pressed against mine as he pushed me closer to the dune. At a recess in the dune, he pulled me over to the edge of the tall grasses that separated the beach from the small mounds of sand that made up the dunes. He spread the blanket out on the sand in that little alcove, took my hand, and gently pulled me down to the blanket.

Despite the relatively warm air, I was shivering. “Cold?” he asked as he nestled closer.

“N-n-n-noo” I managed to bumble. He put his arm around me and pulled me close as he brushed my long hair away from the back of my neck and he felt for my warm skin. My body relaxed under his touch as he massaged lightly the back of my neck. I looked at him, and this time I was the one who leaned in for a kiss, which he accepted with an open mouth. My tongue danced inside, searching for his tongue, and our two tongues flicked together wildly. I could feel him leaning back as I kissed him, and our bodies slowly made their way down to the blanket, me hovering over him as he lay back fully.

He pulled me in closer to him and we continued to kiss. His hands slid up my back as he expertly found my bra snap and undid it. He managed to pull my sweater over my head without missing a kiss. His shirt slid higher on his body, and the warmth of our skin against one another was enough to keep the damp night air at bay. I slowly made my way down his body with my kisses, first his neck, then his chest and nipples which became hard under my tongue. As my tongue danced across them, his hands cupped my breasts and he maneuvered so he could take them into his mouth. He quickly repositioned himself on top of me and kissed his way down my stomach, stopping at the edge of my jeans. I smiled as I thought about my red lace underwear he was surely about to see.

He slowly undid the button on my jeans and slid his warm hand down the front of my pants. I moaned in ecstasy at the anticipation of his touch. Teasingly, he caressed me, making his way further and further down, but not quite far enough. I moaned loudly and he laughed.

Impatient, I took matters into my own hands, and placed my hand over his as I guided him exactly where I wanted him to go. I shuddered as his finger slid inside me for the first time. He slid my jeans off me as he wriggled out of his own and straddled me, looking down at me with soft wet lips glimmering in the moonlight. I leaned up and kissed him. He leaned back at me, finding his way into me. We moved slowly in rhythm, eyes upon each other. He fucked me slowly and softly, the excitement building to a crescendo as we both climaxed at the same time, never taking our eyes off one another. He kissed me deeply after the last shudder went through our bodies and he slowly pulled out of me. I didn’t want it to end. He fell beside me and curled against my body, whether for affection or warmth, I wasn’t sure. All I knew it was the greatest feeling in the world. I nestled in closer and he put his arm around me and drew me into him.

We fell asleep our bodies intertwined like that, the sound of the waves against the shore a soft music that lulled us into slumber. We awakened hours later to the sound of gulls crying just as the sun peaked over the horizon. We smiled lazily at each other and snuggled close as we watched the sun come up in silence. When it had risen fully, without a word we grabbed our things and trudged our way through the sand back to the car. We rode in a comfortable silence back to where I was parked, his hand on my leg for most of the ride.

As we exited his car, terror suddenly gripped me that the most beautiful night of my life was coming to an end, quite possibly to never occur again. The butterflies from the day before returned to my stomach, but this time it was with an uneasy anticipation rather than the previous day’s hopeful and happy expectation. With quickly-growing sadness, I turned to say goodbye at my car. He positioned himself against my door, barring my entry, and grabbed both my hands as I faced him. He pulled me in closer to him, and I had to straddle his legs to keep from falling. He began kissing me lightly, and the taste of fear lingered upon my lips. How could this come to an end? I was mad at God and the world.

He must have sensed my sadness because he suddenly stopped kissing me and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Liar,” he said. I smiled a sheepish smile at him. “What’s wrong?” he repeated, more sternly this time. “No more kisses unless you tell me.”

I was quiet for a number of seconds that seemed like eternity, and then I finally said to him, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”]

“Of no more kisses.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, his bratty self making an appearance. “You think too much,” he told me. I decided in that instant to let go of my fears and decided that whatever was to be would be.

“OK,” I smiled and meant it, giving it up to God and the universe which I believed had a plan for us.

His bratty self in full gear, he moved out of my way, and it was obvious the moment had ended and I should get in my car. What an ass I am, I thought to myself.

“Bye,” he said rather forcefully to me, and it was all I could do to keep from crying.

“Bye,” I responded dejectedly. I opened the car door but swore I could see him smiling to himself out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at him.

“Bye?” I said a little more forcefully myself with a hint of a question mark at the end, making it clear I was expecting more out of the goodbye. He conceded and gave me a kiss hard on the lips. I was happy I won that mini-battle of wits and sad the way it was all ending at the same time. I wanted so much more.

I got in my car and lowered the window. I watched as he walked back to his own car and took his time opening the door, throwing his things on the front passenger seat, and making a show of being about to get in. He looked at me triumphantly, and sensing he had made his point, must have decided to stop punishing me. He walked back over to my car, leaned down, cupped my chin in his hand, and pulled my face close to him for a kiss. It was neither soft nor hard, the kind of kiss perfect for broad daylight and saying goodbye. “Bye,” he whispered, turned, and got in his car.

I sat stunned for a moment, and then started my ignition. I watched as he was the first to drive off.

As I headed down the road I felt an odd mixture of happiness and sadness. It was the most beautiful night of my life, but today’s return to reality was a slap in the face. What would happen next?

The sound of Mariah Carey’s “You’ll Always Be My Baby” broke through my thoughts, and it took me a few seconds to realize this was his ring tone on my phone. The smile came through in my voice as I answered, “Helloooo?” dragging out the “o” in a playful way that belied my nervousness.

“I forgot to tell you something,” he told me in a low, sexy voice.

“What’s that?” Silence followed for several seconds.

“I love you,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Relief washed over me, and I was a bundle of excitement as I responded, “I love you too, silly.” Then I was the one to become quiet.

We stayed on the phone in silence for several long seconds. Finally, he broke the spell and said, “Drive carefully and call me when you get home.”

By the time I reached my house I was all but falling asleep standing up as I fumbled with the keys. My phone rang just as I entered the house and was shutting off the alarm. “Are you home yet?” my favorite voice asked.

“Just walking in the house now.”

“You could have called me.”

“You’re silly,” I told him. “I’m going to bed.”

“Me too,” he said, “I just wanted to say good night.” It was approaching noon.

“Good night baby,” I whispered.

“Call me when you wake up,” he said, and I was thrilled that he wanted so much contact. Maybe things would turn out ok after all.

I undressed and climbed into bed and pulled one of my big pillows close to me, remembering how I spent the night against him. I’m sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face. My heart was truly happy.

I awakened hours later to the sound of the doorbell. Not expecting anyone, I pulled on my robe and groggily headed for the door. I was met by not a person, but a huge bouquet of red roses separating me from the delivery man on the other side of them. As I placed them on the dining room table, I noticed the card attached to the cellophane. I noticed my hands were trembling slightly as I ripped open the little envelope.

“I really do love you,” it read followed by my favorite initials that he goes by. I picked up the phone and dialed…