“Hi, Kimmy.” She could hear his greeting through the phone and see his smile through the window. He waved at her jauntily, looking fresh and handsome in chinos and a powder-blue polo.
“Hi!” Oh gosh, he actually came to see her. “One minute, okay?”
“Okay.” There was a smile in his voice as she pulled the curtains back closed. “Make it quick, I missed you.”
The breath left her as she pressed her ear to the phone.
“Was that the wrong thing to say?” He sounded embarrassed; she could practically see him scratching his head, unsure.
“It was the absolute perfect thing to say,” she gushed, throwing her closet door open.
“Great.” He exhaled in relief. “Hey, do you wanna go on a road trip with me, maybe?”
She had matching lingerie on as she said, “Sure! Just let me get a few things.”
“Oh, sorry! I keep talking on and on. I’ll hang up now.”
“Yeah, you got carried away a little bit,” she said, grinning like a loon.
“Yeah. Okay. One minute.” She couldn’t believe he was getting frazzled as she struggled with the straps of her cotton sundress.
“One minute, Paolo.”
“One minute. Bye!”
She giggled. “Bye.”
In a rush she applied some blush and lip gloss on, brushing back her fringe and pinning it with a tiny clip on the side. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she was surprised at how buoyant she looked. Like she was traipsing on her tiptoes, floating on air. Silly, she thought with a dark chuckle, considering what she had been doing moments before.
She tossed a change of clothes, her shower kit, and her wallet in her bag, and was flying down the stairs in no time.
The gate shut behind her with a heavy screech as it scraped against the pavement.
And Paolo was there, catching her by the waist as soon as she stepped on the street. He was looking at her with the most adoring expression on his face, so obviously glad to see her that Kimmy threw her arms around him without hesitation. With him there was no need to be coy. No need for mind games, power plays. It was refreshing to like someone and be liked right back.
He held her in a bear hug, burying his face in her neck. “God,” he said. “Did I tell you how much I missed you?”
“You did. But you can say it again.”
“I missed you. A lot. I was thinking of you the whole night.”
She grinned into his shoulder as her stomach did loop-the-loops. Did he really just say that?
“Why’d you come over so late, then?” she scolded. The effect was ruined, however, when she snuffled at his shirt, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent and cologne. It made her think of mornings by the dock, dipping toes in the water as boats bobbed by. The smell was clean and relaxing. Proper, even. Just like its owner.
“Sorry.” Paolo drew back to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “I made a delivery at a few cafes. A lot of people, it turns out, like sweet lemongrass tea in the summer.”
Her eyes grew round. “Congratulations!” She hugged him even tighter. “I’m so proud of you!”
He laughed, her praise meaning more to him than he wanted to admit.
“Ready to go for a refill, then?” he asked, nodding to the car.
Kimmy hissed as she turned on the shower. The water that spritzed out of it was scorching, so much so that she turned her body away. The hot gush fizzed against the orchid-yellow tile, and she watched it go down the drain, waiting for it to cool.
This was the worst part of the summer. Already she was naked in her bathroom, which was located in the lowest – and supposedly coolest – part of the house, but she was still perspiring. She tested the water with her fingers… ah, blessedly cold now… and went back under the spray.
She shuddered in relief as the water hit her chest, turned around so it jetted on her back, and let the mist soak through her hair. She switched off the shower and began to lather on the shampoo. Aloe vera, another frosty ingredient that was perfect for the tropical heat.
Thoughts of the night before raced through her head. She sighed as she massaged her fingers through her scalp. Oh, how awful. That she was here, tormented by the ghost sensations of Paolo’s touch on her skin. So pitifully alone.
It was as if he had awakened her from a long, deep sleep that night. The world had become more alive to her, in focus, sharper, louder, more everything than before.
And then he went on to fade back into nothingness.
She began to soap herself with a sponge, the squashy material stimulating her skin like never before. It traveled along one breast, then the other, and she felt her nipples harden into nuggets, making her moan.
She deeply felt the loss of the man she wished was by her side. The sponge was quickly let go of, falling to the floor with a squelch, and she brought her hands to her breasts, cupping them and kneading them, trying to pretend her hands were Paolo’s instead.
Hot, frustrated tears pooled in her eyes even as she squinted them away.
She literally ached.
She had never wanted anyone so badly. He was her first love, and last night he had transformed into someone who had the potential –so much potential – to be her last.
Her hands slipped down her stomach, then along her sides, where she traced the curves slowly. He would probably do the same. Savor the ride, glory in her every feature, try to memorize the feel and shape and scent…
Except her intimate flesh was already swollen and eager for him. Her fingers slipped easily into the triangle of her mound, and as they began to spread her open, she whispered, “This is yours, Paolo, this is yours.”
Her hand, her pussy… She would give herself to him without a second thought. She had already been his for years.
Late morning had sunlight brightening the stained glass windows of the church. He had sat at the pew across hers, first noticing the elegant hand that brought a rice paper fan to her chest. The tiny breeze had stirred the hair she’d held back with a band of cloth.
It had been warm inside the church, thankfully not stuffy. He could see her cheeks pinkening as the Mass went on, the delicate charms on the slim bracelet jangling on that slender wrist as she continued to fan herself.
Then the priest was gazing solemnly down at the couple and having them promise undying love and loyalty to each other. Paolo had leaned forward casually so he could peek at her reaction. Despite the cloying perfume of the old ladies beside him, he smiled. She was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief furtively. Just a flash of square cloth, then it was slipped back in her bag as quickly as it came.
It had been nice to study her at his leisure. He could see every involuntary reaction, every facial expression. She had grown beautifully into her features, age making her bloom. She wasn’t the type to wow at first glance, but there was something in her eyes that captured his attention.
At the reception, he saw it too in the way she sat erect, the way she kept her hands on her lap, the way she folded her legs primly into the space between the legs of her chair. She held herself in check, but every now and then she would stare off into space, wistful. It was like she was just looking for that something, a trigger, and the floodgates would burst open. She made him want to gaze at her for hours and wait for that guard to fall down.
Meanwhile he was content to study that sensual mouth as it wrapped around the lip of her champagne glass. To eye that valley between her breasts, which she seemed unused to exposing. Twice he caught her fingering the stiff shawl resting on the back of her chair, as though struggling against the instinct to cover herself with it.
He watched her as she conversed with her friends easily. She seemed to know how to listen, and what to say.
And when a toddler wriggled from her mother’s arms to wander toward her, he knew that Kimmy was as sweet as he remembered from high school. She bent down to carry the baby, bringing the child to her lap. He immediately wrapped his fat little arms around her neck.
Paolo was overcome with the urge to do the same.
Instead he continued to watch her as she cooed at the baby, kissing and fussing over him as she and the mother smiled at each other from the opposite ends of the table.
How silly it was for him to be affected by such a scene, yet he was. After his father died two years ago, his mother had spent her time carousing around the country. Every now and then she sent him e-mails with pictures of her shimmying with fire-dancers in the sands of Boracay, hamming it up with foreign backpackers in the caves of Sagada, or sipping a mango cocktail in the shores of Cebu.
It helped her heal, she said, and he adored his mother, so he let him sow her wild oats. With his elder brother in the States with his own family, Paolo yearned for a family of his own, too.
He wanted warmth, and love, and responsibility. He thrived in it. And he wanted this woman to be the one he had all of these things with.
He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but at second was a real possibility.
Shrieking. They laughed like banshees. And Kimmy wasn’t listening to any more of this. Not with Paolo, at least.
“Know what?” she said, tugging at his arm. “I agree with you. We should leave.”
His eyes were twinkling with mirth. “We should find out what happens to those patriotic briefs, at least.”
“Can we not?” She stood up, pulling at him desperately. The women’s voices were coming closer.
“Alright, alright.” He let himself be pulled up and was standing beside her in no time.
“Let’s go!” she hissed.
He smirked and ambled along.
“She loved every second of it, I tell you.” That Nina was at it again, and she was closer than Kimmy was comfortable with. But Paolo was rounding the corner and she could do nothing but follow.
“Good evening, ladies.”
What a line.
But it did put the outrageous chatter to a stop. Kimmy saw how the two women paused and took Paolo in, eyes roving wildly as a wolf’s on a bloody carcass. Except he was more like a juicy piece of meat.
“He-llo,” the plump one said, all sing-songy. “Wanna join us? I don’t think we can finish this all by ourselves.” She gestured with the bottle of wine in her hand.
“You can share my glass,” her sidekick piped in.
“Thank you,” Paolo replied, all politeness and abashed charm, “but I have to see my friend back to her table.”
The two to eyed Kimmy as she stepped from behind the man. She considered waving, but thought better of it.
“Oh.” That Nina’s tone was decidedly less sweet this time.
“Well, it was nice meeting you two!” Kimmy said brightly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Paolo here wants the chance to catch the garter.”
“And Kimmy was looking forward to catching the bouquet.”
They were allowed to pass, but not before Kimmy heard a grumbled, “What a slut.”
She smiled to herself. It wasn’t everyday she got called that, and she was kind of proud to do something to elicit that reaction, even if it was just pretend. Suddenly the world felt like it was opening itself up to her. The night was young, she had a handsome man beside her, and she was heading back to her friends. Maybe she would dance this time. Or drink some more champagne. She was definitely toasting the bride and groom.
Here’s to love.
Picking up her skirts, she ran through the maze, cobblestones smooth against her feet. She relished the air whizzing past her, cooling her skin.
Behind her she could hear Paolo laughing. The sound was coming closer, and she picked up speed. Try and catch me!
“Paolo,” she breathed.
He grinned at her. “Finally! You remember.”
“I haven’t seen you in ages.” Now she realized why she was drawn to this dark stranger in the first place. He wasn’t a stranger, and she’d had a crush on him since she was thirteen.
“Been busy with my grandfather’s land. It’s been idle for so long, and now we’re reviving it. Getting the community involved, you know?” The moonlight shone on his animated face.
“So that’s why you’re so dark! You’re a farmer now!” She laughed, touching his arm companionably.
“Yeah, that’s probably why you didn’t recognize me at first.” He shook his head at her, a smile playing at his mouth.
“I’m sorry.” She remembered the fair boy he’d been, rosy-cheeked and dimpled. She’d always wanted to trace that dimple. It was cute on him before. Now the indentation on his cheek, combined with the upward slant of his eyes, made her almost apprehensive. It was the look of a man who could eat her alive.
“You should be sorry. I knew who you were immediately.”
“I haven’t really changed much.” It occurred to her that they were sitting beside each other, and that his arm felt nice thrown over her shoulder.
“You’re still pretty.”
Her breath caught. How on earth was she supposed to respond to that? She could feel her heart as it battered against her chest.
He chuckled, a sound that was obscene in the dark. A promise of things to come. “You are, you know.”
“Thank you,” she said a little too loudly. “You are too.”
This time he laughed outright.
“Or you were, at least.” Kimmy felt more at ease, joking like this. “Honestly, what was up with that eternally slicked back hair? You must’ve gone through a lot of gel in high school.”
“I liked things neat, okay? And I thought it looked cool. Like I belonged to a Guess ad.”
“Or a billboard for the many uses of lard.”
“I resent that! All the girls seemed to like it back then.”
“They liked to laugh at it’s more like it.”
“Admit it. You fell for the hair, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are so full of yourself.”
He shrugged and smiled and slouched back on the bench. “At least I don’t use as much product now.”
She laughed and watched him.
It was as if he had all the time in the world. Face tipped toward the moon, he sighed. “You should see the sky back home. All the stars… Here in the city they get choked by all the artificial lights.”
Kimmy lay in bed, her hair still damp, her towel thrust aside. She had drawn the curtains, pushed back the covers, and turned on the fan. With the sluggishness of a summer’s day, it dispelled the moisture from her skin.
She still felt hot, even after her shower, even sprawled unclothed on her mattress. Already the afternoon heat was descending on her, a blanket that made it impossible to do anything.
Except she was touching herself again. Letting the pleasure build leisurely, feeling lethargic as her eyes drifted half-shut. She was getting better at pretending that Paolo was there, weaving scenarios of the two of them together and living in that imagined world.
In her head, the one where last night ended differently was playing on loop again. Here, she and Paolo hadn’t parted ways after the reception. They stayed at one of the old, historical hotels nearby instead, and spent the night naked in each other’s arms.
She moaned, pinching her left breast which had already peaked at the mental image. With her other hand she dipped into the plane of her navel, stretching her fingers across the concave of her stomach.
If only Paolo was with her now.
She pulled her lip between her teeth as her fingers slowly inched toward their goal. Her knees edged away from each other, exposing her pink, secret flesh to the immobile air. She felt herself grow wet.
Then the telephone buzzed on her nightstand.
“Argh!” With her luck it would be her parents, checking up on her while they were on vacation in Korea.
She lifted the cordless from its charger and pressed the answer button.
“Hello?”
“Hello? May I speak with Kimmy please?”
She barely suppressed a squeal as her mood did a 180-degree turn. It was high school all over again. Except, as she looked down at her fingers and guiltily moved them to a less provocative place, she hadn’t known how to do these things in high school.
“Paolo?”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t get your cell number last night.” He sounded happy to hear her voice. “Was hoping your landline was still the same.”
“Glad we never changed it then,” she said, grinning into the phone.
“So… Are you doing anything right now?”
She glanced down at her naked body and wondered what to answer. Did she dare…?
“I’m kind of… in the middle of something.” Her clit throbbed as it sought her attention.
“Oh?” The disappointment was audible in his voice.
“Um, but it can wait!” she rushed to say, scrambling to sit up on the bed. “You wanted to talk?”
“I’m… outside your house, actually.” He laughed self-consciously.
“You are?!” She ran to the curtains and pushed them aside, careful to keep her body out of sight. Sure enough, a small truck was parked outside her gate, the door open to reveal Paolo on the driver’s seat. He was looking up at her window and hit the horn cheerfully upon seeing her face.
“Get a room already, will you?” came the shrill voice of that Nina, stomping her way behind the two of them.
Her companion gave them the evil eye, griping, “Quit rubbing it in our faces!”
“Putang–”* there was a rustle of skirts and a hollow sound of bottle falling on grass. “And watch where you put your shoes!” Kimmy’s heels came flying in the air.
The couple had to duck to avoid getting hit.
“I could’ve smashed my head on the pavement just now!”
“Sorry!” Kimmy called out, torn between guilt and irritation. The two drunk girls came thundering through the fragile edges of her magic world, after all.
With their retreat, she slid out of Paolo’s arms and onto the floor. One after the other she put her shoes back on.
Paolo hovered before her, hand braced on the wall she was leaning on. She could hear him panting, and when she looked up, she itched to tuck a tendril that hung loose from his carefully combed back hair.
“You should leave the bouquet to those two,” he said shakily.
She guffawed, the sound loud to her ears.
It made him smile with the very same lips that had just been on hers.
“Let’s go back to the reception?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.
She sighed. Going back to the crowd was inevitable.
She took his hand and let herself be hauled to her feet. Now that they were face to face, she could see her gloss on his lips and smiled a little. With her handkerchief back in her pouch, she had to make do with using her thumb, reaching up to rub his lips clean.
She saw him staring at her, noticed how his lips parted at the intimate caress. The skin beneath the pad of her thumb was soft, swollen with their kisses. She was riveted by the bow of his mouth, and deliberately it pursed over her thumb as heated breath was expelled.
Her mound clenched around a shaft that wasn’t there.
Then his tongue flicked, swift as the tail of koi.
Heat continued to swim at the bottom of Kimmy’s stomach.
She held her breath as Paolo encircled her wrist, planted one last, hot kiss on the length of her thumb, and lowered her hand to her side.
“You’re torturing me,” she grumbled as they began to walk back to the garden.
“Oh, darling, you have no idea what you do to me, then.”
*Prostitute
“Wait up!” he called.
She sprinted even faster, breath coming out in puffs. As her heart thundered and the sweat broke on her skin, she looked back. Paolo was definitely slower than she remembered.
Captain of the running team, my butt. She cackled at his disheveled form and the exertion she saw on his face.
“You’re getting old, mister!” she screeched, still tickled to the bone.
“Is that so?” And it was like someone pinned him to a rocket. He was on her in no time, zooming so fast she backed into the hedge with a tiny yelp.
His breath fanned her cheek. “Still too slow for you?”
Her eyes widened. His lips were so close, she imagined she could taste the champagne on his breath. “No, not any–”
His mouth descended on hers. Forceful beneath the softness of his lips. Her lungs gave a huge lurch.
“Mm,” came the rumble from his chest. She felt it on her skin; he pressed so closely against her.
Then his hands found hers, and he was threading his fingers between her own. She could cry at the sweetness of it, the small gesture that meant he wanted more closeness, more connection.
His lips moved against hers, and she was opening up for him, wanting to taste him, wanting to know him. His tongue slid in and she met him with a thrust of her own, a slick hello of tongues, a soft parry and lunge.
It felt like she’d been waiting forever for that kiss. She could feel the heat of his body even as his thumbs were pressing circles on the center of her palms. He undulated against her gently, his body rocking as he explored her mouth more deeply. It was a kiss that began with lips upon lips, and continued with hands, chests, hips.
It was a kiss that belonged in a maze, in a secret place where it was only him and her. Kimmy allowed herself to press back, to push her lips against his own until it became a give-and-take, fluid, the kiss she’d spent years dreaming of.
Her heart throbbed and her hands shook, but wrapped in this man, she felt perfectly safe. She expected to be more ill at ease, but now that their bodies were doing the speaking for themselves, it felt perfectly natural to be with Paolo in this way. It felt raw. Honest. True.
Paolo brought her hands to his shoulders, then cupped her cheeks, urging her mouth with his. She was so responsive beneath him, so Kimmy, small moans creeping from her lips and taken by his tongue. He felt her hands tighten around his, smelled the mild fragrance of her hair. His hands traveled down her throat, and being allowed to touch that part of her seemed to him more intimate than anything else they’d been doing.
This was the culmination of a trying day. The end of seeing and not being able to touch. Paolo finally had Kimmy where he wanted her, had been wanting her since he first caught a glimpse of her at the ceremony.
Kimmy couldn’t believe how close they were. As she shifted in her seat so she could gaze at the sky as well, she felt his fingers playing with her hair. Just running the strands through his fingers, tangling and untangling the short locks like a child with a new toy.
It was becoming an effort to breathe. The man beside her could so easily slide his fingers on her nape, feel the heat and caress her skin. Silly her, so afraid of an act that came so easily to everyone else. Heck, everyone else seemed to being doing things that were much more intimate than that.
But she hadn’t done any of those stuff except for that one kiss she shared with a classmate back in college. Graduation blues and all that. She hadn’t even liked the guy. She’d just had too much vodka and not enough self-control.
And now here he was, Paolo Antonio Galvez, the boy-turned-man whom she’d never been able to get over. Cocky, capable, and charismatic. So near and so real.
Lord, please let him be single.
He reached out to pluck a flower overhead. “What’s your date gonna say about you gallivanting away from the reception?”
“Gallivanting.” She smiled to herself. Oh Paolo, you’re still you.
He twirled the stem between his knuckles, fascinated by the hollow in the middle of the five petals. By daylight the petals were a vivid purple, blending into a yellow-green until it faded into the white interior.
“I don’t have a date.”
He looked up and presented the flower to her. “Good.”
And the magic was back.
She smiled at the flower resting on her palm.
“It’s great to see you, Kimmy.”
“And you, Paolo.”
Raucous laughter burst behind them.
“-so frickin’ cheesy! Can you believe it? And she acted like such a slut during the bridal shower, too!”
“No way! What did she do?”
“Well, we hired a macho dancer, right? There she was, trapped in the corner, sitting on the chair we tied with blown-up condoms–”
“Ohhh you are so bad, Nina!”
“I know I am, girl!”
More giggling.
Paolo’s eyes flickered lazily over her. “Think it’s time to leave before these ladies start gossiping about us, too.”
Kimmy could just about scream. Whoever that Nina was, she was going to slash her dress to smithereens. And why hadn’t Kimmy been invited to the bridal shower?
“She was sitting, right? And this guy, who was just wearing a vest and a tie and a pair of briefs with the flag on it–”
“Sacrilege!” But the girl didn’t sound offended at all.
“He was practically rubbing his thing in her face!”
So guys. This is me pimping myself out. I’m looking for a job right now but I need a way to make money while waiting for The One.
Which is why I have a proposal for you: Send me a prompt/fantasy/peg you want me to write for you. (That is, if you’re willing to pay for it. :P)
I’ve always wanted to start this kind of storytelling business, and this post is my way of testing the waters, sort of.
USD5 for 1,000 words. If you want a longer story, we can negotiate from there. ;) Send me a message now!