oops.
totally forgot.
sorry....
um this will have to do for now.
maybe i'll write a different one later.
happy weekend everyone!!
*********************(and yes, i'm in a long haired musician rut--so bite me.)
slowly i make my way through the crowd, keeping you in sight as i go.
i noticed you as soon as i arrived, but i haven't been able to get away, to talk to you.
standing by the fireplace, sipping your coffee, you look uncomfortable, out of place.
this party is for your parents, for their friends.
a black tie affair.
you would rather be anywhere else, and it shows.
a fundraiser for your dad's campaign.
i've been his assistant for almost a year, but have never had the chance to speak to you.
you had just turned 19 when i first saw you.
a brooding, sexy musician type.
my type.
a bit too rebellious for your parents' taste, but a good kid.
a kid.
i passed the last obstacle and stood behind you, hesitating for just a moment, heart beating fast.
wondering what i might have to say to you.
feeling every one of my 25 years--and wondering if i was about to make a big mistake.
taking a deep breath, i plunge in, opening a conversation that keeps us going for almost an hour.
you're studying archeology, play in a band.
guitar, vocals.
with the party still going full steam, you offer me a copy of your CD.
we head to your room to get it.
up the stairs.
heart beating loudly...
down the hall.
am i really doing this?
one...two...three...four doors on the left, then yours.
the sound of the knob turning is all i can hear.
as the door closes, that other world--my world--is left behind and i begin to forget why i was downstairs in the first place.
i step out of my spike heels and curl up in a bean bag chair while you search through a pile on your desk.
you find one, and bring it over, kneeling on the floor to show me the artwork on the jewel case.
you tell me your girlfriend did it.
a wave of panic and self-loathing washes over me in that brief moment before you casually tell me how she's pissed that you're still using it even though you guys broke up.
you shrug and hand me the case.
i thank you and begin to rise, but you put your hand on my arm.
...ask me to wait.
you look nervous suddenly.
i see sweet youth in your soft skin, clear eyes...
and notice, flushing, that you can't keep them off my perfectly displayed cleavage.
the room suddenly feels very warm as i realize that i am alone in a bedroom...with my boss's 19 year old son.
i say, 'we should get back before--'
but in that moment you see in my eyes the guilt for the thoughts i am having about you.
you know.
and you lean close, pausing with your lips just brushing mine...
forcing me to respond.
i fight the urge to devour you whole, as reason and logic fall away from me.
the only thing that saves you is the amount of effort it takes to remove your tux...
my red satin gown flows around us, cool against our skin.
there comes a knock at the door and i dive for cover.
you shout, 'just a minute' and your dad asks if you've seen me.
i stop breathing completely, shaking my head frantically.
you tell him that you saw me leave a while ago, and his footsteps recede.
you lock the door and turn to me.
we smile softly and scramble to your bed, losing my dress in the process...
the sheets and satin make a tangled nest for our frenzied efforts.
i drag my nails down your back, you bite my neck.
we are a perfect match, in this room at least.
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