Looking forward to the past

Last night I was lying in bed, minding my own business and sleeping soundly. I am sure I was dreaming of the Lakers and Kobe Bryant winning a championship without Shaq or pulling off some multi-million dollar deal without a dime of my own money when suddenly and out of the blue... A thunderous crash in my brain and cerebral lightning strikes and I am standing in the office of one my friends over at the NBC tower. This was not surprising or shocking too me, this particular friend and I do see each other maybe twice a year and I go to her office and we have lunch somewhere and catch up. I am wearing my standard uniform; basic brown shoes, tan khaki-colored suit, with white shirt , no tie and brown belt. I believe that I am waiting for my friend of about 18 years to come out of her office restroom so we can head over to Grande Luxe Cafe, a place she loves and I can barely tolerate, except for these glorious little desserts.

While standing, both hands firmly entrenched in the pockets of my slacks; attitude slowly building because of the much anticipated, yet highly unnecessary wait. In this time and space, I began to think about the myriad of things going on in my afternoon that I absolutely must remember to get too. At last the door cracks, but, my old childhood friend does not enter. I turn slightly and alter my stance to help the door open and my heart nearly stops. Standing before me is none other than you. Wearing a navy and white Anne Taylor business ensemble with navy and white lady wing tip shoes, I would almost swear that you were there for a meeting of some sort. An eternity passes by inside of a nanosecond and not a word is said. That is when I realize that the only person shocked by this chance meeting is me; you clearly have come with a purpose and a mission. Standing in complete shock I relent my position and begin to back peddle, you slowly make your way into the room filling up the void between the door and my right arm.

Looking deep into your eyes searching for a clue as to why and how I am standing here fully clothed, yet my soul is stone naked before you. You give no hint nor clue as to your intentions, you simply saunter over to me, look up into my eyes and without a word convince my heart too surrender. My heart complies with your request and my will is soon too follow. You reach for my hand and I melt within your touch. You pull me closer to you and for a second I nearly lose my footing as quickly as I lost my desire to resist. Still, without a word being spoken you engage me with a warm embrace; the sight, the smell and feel are all so familiar. My hands instantly remember every curve and every soft spot. Your breath, so warm and inviting on my neck that I bend at the knees and pull you closer to me. Before I even realize what is happening I am caressing your back and running my hands the length of your back and down over your sweet ass.

Lost in this rhythmic dance my body responds to your touch. Still, in this space and time our bodies become one; writhing, needing organism, growing and feeding lust and love lost in years past. The hunger rises and I can not wait one more second to touch your lips with mine. Inside of the breath it took to cover your mouth with my own, I am transported back to that sacred day that I met you and held you in my arms for the first time, and the kiss that ensued. This time there would be no glaring looks from on-lookers, no horns blowing and no threats from gum shoe beat walkers relegated to guarding the park we nestled in. This time, its just you and I, this passion and desire and the maddeningly delightful inscription of a story yet untold. I was your Odysseus and you my Penelope. Not quite ten years, but long enough for a fable to be written.

With our mouths and tongues busy, our hands join the party. You began wresting my jacket from my torso and I help you. Still not sure if this is right or good or real; I slowly let go of every chivalrous thought I ever held in our previous meetings. I let my guard and do not wonder if this passion in the making is moral or ethical or what the risk later in life will be. My only thought is that this love inside of me is too big and too uncontrollable to hold any longer, I know you must feel the same way by the way you are releasing buttons from my shirt. Not too be out done, with my lips still connected to yours, I begin removing your clothing with vigor. I think I broke a button! I hope that you don't mind. Shit, I guess we're even, you just ripped a belt loop off of my pants trying to release the buckle.

Still, having only shared touches, feels, caressing, holds, massages, grinds and moans, to this point there hasn't been one word uttered between us. Somehow though, I think we understand each other perfectly. As I finally slide your shirt from your shoulders, I notice your brown skin glowing under the fluorescent of the office. You remove my shirt and unbutton my pants but leave them zipped, you slide my T-top t-shirt out of my pants and slip it over my head, I bend down just a little to help you. Now we are smiling at one another, sharing a moment like only we can share, like we have shared so many times before. Our smiles soften and I pull you close as I lean against the edge of the desk, I begin kissing you once again and again your body responds. This time I have visual evidence as I remove your bra with one hand hold you with my free hand. Not too be out done, you finally unzip my pants and hold me in your hands. The love is so thick in the air, anyone attempting to look in upon us would be be blinded as if by the thickest Chicago Fog. I feel your warm skin next mine, I caress and suck your hardened nipples. You return the favor placing your hand deep inside my overly stretched underwear.

Seeing you here, in nothing but some pale blue panties, I wonder too myself how one allows their one and only wife, their best friend and the only woman they have ever thought of mothering their children get away. I don't know the answer and it will not be answered this afternoon. There is something far more pressing on my mind; how in the hell do I act cool, when I am about to explode from the excitement. As I stand to allow you easier access to me and what has ultimately always been yours! You slide my pants down to my shoes and now nearly nothing stands between us, between our love and between this passion penned up for way too long. Starting at your lips and then down to you neck and over your shoulders and down your chest I place kisses. Across each nipple and down your stomach I suckle and nibble every inch of your body. Now down on my knees, as if apologizing and pleading at the same time, I grab your ass with both hands and pull you into my face, kissing your pelvis, I gently tug at the waistline of your panties and slide them over your hips and down to your ankles as you step out of your shoes.

Asking me to rise, simply by touching both my shoulders with your hands. I stand to my feet, look you in your eyes one more time, searching for a hint of remorse, the scent of regret. I find none. Still, Looking at you, I swipe everything from the once cluttered desk with my arm. I invite you to lay down on the desk by extending my hand. You accept and lay on your back, legs curiously spread and the scent of you and a hint of warmth and love glisten from the very essence of you. I join you atop that desk and images of home fill my head, The anticipation of love and love making transports me to another place, some place deep inside your soul. I am consumed with the feeling of going home and being home. You in every way are inviting me home I drift down upon you as a cloud lightly, gently and effortlessly hovers above the earth and you are waiting and anticipating me coming home...