Lust (4 page)

counted to ten, and went to get closer to him. He barely noticed
what I was wearing because his eyes were glued to the
TV, so I wasted all that fucking time for nothing. I started
whipping the tricks out of the bag: I played the ‘Baby, I’m cold’

card, the ‘My shoulders are tense, rub me’ card. And then when
I realized he was either dense or stupid, I ripped the remote out
of his hands, shut the TV off, and straddled him.”

Samantha shot up as if she was excited to hear a happy ending.

As she went to speak, I put my hand up to silence her
words so I could continue.

“Before you do a cheer, let me finish. So, I’m sitting there
spread eagle on his lap, and I start kissing his neck. And as I
was straddling him, I couldn’t feel anything. He wasn’t hard;
he wasn’t even starting to get there. I couldn’t wrap my head
around the situation. So, I stopped and very sweetly asked him
if something was wrong, if he wasn’t feeling it tonight, or if he
was upset. I couldn’t get anything out of him, and I was not only
horny as hell, but I was getting pissed off. There I was all decked
out for him, ready to put a porn show on for him, and nothing.”

Samantha had to interrupt, looking as if she would burst. “I
have to say this one thing, and then you can speak for the next
twenty minutes. If after all this you end the story with ‘he’s
gay,’ I will throw myself off this train, because right now, I’m
even ready to fuck you after that sexy description of yourself.

Something’s gotta give.”

My hand went to my head, stroking the pain inside as I
thought about last night’s events, which in the grand scheme
of things wasn’t like someone had died but still made me feel
crappy. “No, he’s not gay, and thanks for the offer, by the way.

If and when I give up on men, I will take you up on that offer.”

We smirked at each other.

“OK, so now that we got that out of the way; remember
you gave me twenty minutes all to myself to speak as much as
I want until I am done.”

Samantha took her hand and motioned across her lips, zipping
them, turning the key, and reaching into her pocket. She
would keep her mouth locked until I was done telling my story.

“As I was saying, I showed him my concern without blankly
saying, ‘Why don’t you have an erection?’ and he just stared
at me, caressing my face. I felt like I was a child. When he
finally spoke, he said, ‘You deserve to be treated like royalty,
and I’m going to see to it that that is what you get tonight.’

So, I immediately turned my frown upside down and hugged
him. Great, I thought. I’m going to get it so good, I’m going to
orgasm until I can’t feel my vagina. I was ecstatic. So he gently
grabbed my hand and walked me upstairs to my bedroom. At
the door he lifted me and carried me onto my bed. I mean, it
seemed so erotic, you know, very masculine, him taking control
and all. I watched him undress slowly, and though I would have
preferred ripping his clothes off, I behaved. Watching him, I
made all the right moves: biting my lip, caressing my leg, running
my fingers down my breasts. The anticipation was getting
intense; I actually got into it.”

Remembering the excitement and wetness in between my
legs at that moment, it made me take a breath. A very deep
breath filled with longing instead of excitement. Samantha
made a circling motion with her hand signaling me to keep
going.

“So, he crawled onto the bed, kissing me from my toes all
the way to my hip. But unfortunately his happy trail stops at
the hip, because he stopped and eased himself in between my
legs. I still enjoyed it, waiting, expecting. He eased himself
onto my chest and kissed me sweetly, which was now starting
to get annoying. I mean, think about it, I could have probably
cum twice by now since we got into my bedroom. So anyway,
there we were, in the missionary position, which you know is
not my favorite cup of tea, well, OK, it gets three minutes during
sex and no more. And that was it. Ten minutes in the missionary
position and he was done. Instead of an orgasm, I think
I ended up drier than when we started. I actually think that it
took him longer to take off his clothes and put on the condom
than the sex itself.”

Raising her hand like a school girl, Samantha waited for
permission to speak. I just nodded and rolled my eyes, with
half a smile on my lips, signaling Samantha to go ahead and
say her piece.

“Shit, Eva, that sucks, but is it really worth working yourself
up like this? I mean, yeah, I would have been pissed, but
you look like somebody died. And the truth is the only thing
that died was your orgasm.”

I couldn’t laugh, though it was funny. Taking notice
of Samantha’s expression, I knew she felt my sadness, so she
couldn’t help but probe a little further.

“Was that the end of the story or is there more? Because
you look like you want to cry, and I’m not sure I get the full
picture.”

I looked up and met Samantha’s stare. “God, why can’t I find
a man who reads me like you do? When he finished, he politely
slid off the bed and went to discard the condom, as I sat there
mentally trying to figure what the hell had just happened. I felt
him slowly slide next to me. His heart was pounding, and his
breath was fast. I didn’t understand. Had he just run a marathon
that I didn’t seem to know about? Had he just done push-ups in
the bathroom? Where the fuck was his energy? I mean, seriously,
Sam. I’m thirty-two; he’s twenty-eight. And you would think
that he was just getting started having ‘real’ sex! So of course we
laid in the dark, because God help him and his immaturity, he
couldn’t have sex or after sex talk unless the lights were out. And
then he started mumbling about being so right for each other
and being on the same page. Hell, I wanted to be in a different
universe, and he was telling me we were basically destined for a
lifetime. In five minutes of conversation, I went from confused to
pissed off, then to utterly repulsed by this immature dimwit who
somehow thought that after barely three months of dating—if
you want to call it that—that he was going to be part of the
rest of my life. The boy couldn’t begin to satisfy me if he had a
manual in hand and I had neon signs pointing to my clit!”

Samantha couldn’t hold her laughter at the image I had
described. “Wow, that’s harsh. You sure you’re not just giving
me your side of the story? Not that I would know any better,
since I don’t speak to him and you are the one telling me what
happened. I just worry that maybe you had some part in what
went wrong…?” Samantha’s words died down to a whisper. She
was trying not to make me feel worse by asking if I should take
some of the blame.

“What do you mean I did something wrong? I have to take
blame for a twenty-eight-year-old boy who can only last ten
minutes and only knows the missionary position. Ugh, I don’t
fucking think so. You know what? Let’s change the subject. I
can’t believe you sometimes.” I turned my back to Samantha
and stared at the window, searching for the peace I had found
when first boarding the train, but there was nothing.

Reaching over and placing her hand gently on my shoulder,
Samantha’s voice was soft and concerned. “Eva, look at me,
please.” I turned, tears building in my eyes. “Do you seriously
think that I would take anybody’s side over yours? It kills me
to see you like this when something goes wrong with a guy. I
almost wish you would stop dating. Maybe you just aren’t in the
mind to date right now, and you should be all about you for a
while. That’s all I’m saying. You can’t fall for a man that you are
not interested in having in your life in the first place. You said
it yourself, you aren’t looking for a relationship right now, and
you’re definitely not looking for love. So why not give it a rest
for a little bit? I know it will suck, but we’ll get you another vibrator,
and until you are ready, able, and willing to let someone
in, then we can work on who’s wrong and who is right for you.”

Samantha stared at me with such a calmness and light coming
through her blue eyes that I had no choice but to let go. I
wrapped my arms around my best friend and let the tears fall
down my cheeks.

“There is nothing to worry or cry about. You have so much
going for you right now. A man won’t give you anything you
don’t already have. And, when fate finds its way to you, you will
know. It will just be right. There will be a man or woman—
don’t look at me like that. You never know. Let me finish. There
will be a man or a woman brought to you by fate herself, yes,
I made fate a woman, and this man or woman will not only
get everything about you but he/she will accept you and help
you in every way and.—wait, here it comes—the perfect man
for you will make you orgasm with screams that can be heard
around the world. I promise you. And, until then, it’s me and
you: the director of the top M and A firm in friggin’ New York
City! Are you kidding me? You are on your way to the top, and
I know in my heart that when you do get there, there will be
someone special waiting for you.”

I hoped what she proclaimed would reveal itself not some
day soon but some day.

I couldn’t tell Samantha the worst part of my evening, because
I knew deep inside that the flaw in my evening was in fact
not only caused by Derek’s weak sex but my undeniable and
irrevocable longing for a man I had known for no more than an
hour. But, he was burned into me, into my senses, and nothing
would measure up to this vision and reverie I had embedded of
him. I coveted what I saw of him and all I yearned to have him
do to me.

The cab ride from Penn just wasn’t long enough this morning
as I tried to put myself back together after all the tears shed
on the train. It didn’t bother me, because the truth was, letting
it all out actually felt better, more relaxed, and realistic about
the gravity of the situation.

Honestly, I knew I had nothing to fear, and I wasn’t dealing
with a grave situation. It just made me feel crappy, and I
don’t like to feel like I can’t control my future or my outcomes.

Reapplying my blush as the cab pulled up on the corner of Park
and Fifty-First Street, I was ready to go. Samantha paid the
driver as I finished up. It was 9:10, and with five minutes to go,
we walked awkwardly down the block.

“Samantha?”

“Eva, don’t go there. Don’t get all emotional on me. It’s
nothing, and by the way, you really don’t want to do your
makeup all over again, especially since it looks better now than
it did this morning.” But I had to stop on the sidewalk as we
approached the entrance to the building.

“I just wanted to say thank you and that I don’t want you
to worry or pity me. I’m happy where I am. I don’t feel like I’m
missing something or that I need a man to fill some void, but
I do wonder sometimes why I can’t find someone who meets
me on the same level. Sometimes I feel like something’s wrong
with me maybe. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m good. It was just a
long, disappointing night, I got no sleep, hurt my thigh. Ugh,
it’s a long story. I hit the corner of the bed. But I just had to get
it out, and now I’m back and I really am good. And thank you
for being my friend and for introducing yourself to me seven
years ago right at this very spot. Love you!”

“Love ya too, biotch. Now cut the Lifetime Movie moment.

We got this, me and you, kid! Oh, and by the way, we are going
drinking tonight. And don’t even give me the ‘but it’s a
Monday’ shit, ’cause you have no say!” Samantha gave me an “I
dare you to push me” look.