Almost Something

For a moment, I stared into his eyes, and there was a way he beheld mine that sent shivers down my spine. It was daring, intentional, desperate, and waiting. I began to question certain principles I held dearly onto.

"Would you like to come inside?" I hadn't realized when the words came out of my mouth.

"I don't mind spending the night with you." He grabbed my waist and began kissing me with an urgent desire I couldn't deny I felt inside of me as well.

Then he pushed the door open, nudging me inside while maintaining a strong hold on me. He shut it back with a gravity that notified my body of the incoming pleasure it would face that night.

Sweet, memorable pleasure…

Then I felt his hand go down on me…

"You're so wet I want to eat you up!"

A flush of embarrassment washed over me, and he noticed it.

"You don't need to be shy; be comfortable with me," he said.

There was something about the way he said it that made me feel safe in his presence. A warmth of promise, security, protection, and love overwhelmed me. He was the one. Or so I thought…

We made love that night in a way no man had ever dared to. His tender hands moved over my body meticulously, conscious of the delicateness of my skin. He seemed very accustomed to being that way with women, which was something I somehow found unsettling.

What if he were playing me? What if he had been acting all along? What if, indeed, he was too good to be true

Every what-if left me disarmed and confused, and I simply told myself he was different. Probably because I wanted him to be. But to be true to oneself is to listen to one's intuition. This was a discipline I specialised in. Better put, my intuition never failed me. At least not yet.

In the end, he wasn't who he claimed to be. In the end, he wasn't who I'd hoped for him to be. And in the end, it didn't matter what he did, but all that mattered were the moments lived when he pretended to be someone he never was.

Someone he would never be...