All the texts, the hundreds of hours on the telephone, all the stories shared in detail, none of it has prepared me for you. Here with me now, you are new and familiar. We walk in the door together, and before we say a word, we are in each other’s arms. The waiting is over and our smiles are welcoming and inviting. Suddenly all of our shyness and embarrassment are gone, and when we kiss, we melt into each other, our hearts beating audibly. Neither of us want to interrupt this first kiss, but we need air, and we draw away but not apart.
“How were your flights?”
“Long,” You answer. “Thankfully, over now.”
Yes. After all these months of anticipation and shared confessions of love, thankfully, the longing and waiting is now over. I take your hand and lead you inside.
“Are you hungry?” I ask quietly.
“Only for you,” you say.
It is so strange to be so familiar, to know each other so well and yet to be so completely new. I am caught between feeling we have done this many times before and realizing that it is finally happening for the first time right now.
You take my hand and put it around your waist, and we are so close our hips brush together as we walk, so close that we are one.
We are standing in the entrance to my bedroom when you say, “I’d like to rinse off first,” teasing me with your eyes and smile and remembering the stories I told you about pheromones and needing to love the scent of my lover.
“You smell perfect, exceptionally perfect!” I say, but you remind me you’ve been traveling since early morning, and it is now evening.
We step into the shower. You kiss me and soap my breasts before moving on to my belly and then kneeling before me to soap my butt, my thighs and up between my legs and then down the length of my legs. You stand and I turn you around to soap your neck, your shoulders and your back. Slippery with soap, I glide my hands down to your butt and turn you around once again while I kneel to soap your belly. And when I reach to touch you there, I can tell that you want me.
We stand a moment to allow the warm water to wash away the soap. When I turn off the water, you take two towels from their hooks and hand me one. We take turns drying each other off and then walk naked to the bedroom toward my bed in front of a large, windowed door to the garden. We both notice how the light and shadows seem to form a dance on the walls and ceiling. I leave you there in the entrance for just enough time to remember the open door to the hall, and you watch me walk away to close it before joining you for our own dance.
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