Lost (10 page)

                                              *****

  After we arrived back at my place, there was still a heavy tension that I think both of us wished wasn't there.  I felt sad and slightly hurt by the tension because it was too soon to already be ending as far as I was concerned.
  “What's wrong, Sophie?” Peter asked as he stopped me in the hallway.
  “Nothing,” I lied because everything suddenly felt very wrong between us.  But he just looked at me and waited for more, so I gave it. “It's too soon to feel this tension between us,” I admitted on a whisper.
  “Come here,” he said pulling me back to my bedroom.  Sitting on the bed, he pulled me beside him and then he took my face into his hands and he kissed me.
  Peter kissed me in that way that was all his.  It was sexy as hell and mind-consuming.  He wasn't fast or demanding, but he made me feel explored.  He kissed me until I was leaned back on the bed and pushed further into it.  I was kissed by Peter who would pull away when I least expected it to be looked at, smiled at, studied, then kissed again.
  Peter kissed me, then slowly began touching me as well.  He touched my hips and moved across my stomach.  He moved under my sweater and traced his fingers along my bra and under until he touched my nipples with his fingertips.  Just a touch, but enough to make me try to speed up the kiss.
  I tried to drag him into a deeper kiss with my hands in his hair, but he never sped up.  He continued kissing me with his full lips creating a strange, suspended feeling of being worshipped, but not taken. 

  He never thrust his tongue in deep, but would slide his tongue into my mouth, catch my own, suck it deep into him and release me.  He worshipped my mouth in a way I had never been kissed before.
  When he was under my sweater I decided to help.  Lifting my arms I reached for my own sweater and drew it overhead, even as I said, “Just a second,” and leaned over and up to the window above my bed.  Pulling the dark blinds quickly closed I settled back down on my bed with him.
  “Why did you do that?” He questioned against my lips.
  “Because it was too bright in here,” I whispered back.
  “I don't need darkness to be with you, Sophie,” he kissed me again.
  “Well, I need it.  I don't like...” But I couldn't finish.  I felt insecure and nervous with him this first time. 

  Peter seemed like the type of guy who would be fine with nudity, even daylight nudity, but I wasn't.  I never had been.  I was okay with my body, even with some of the obvious imperfections, but I sure as hell wasn't ready to be naked in daylight with him.
  “Sophie...” He seemed to moan into my mouth, but then he began seriously touching me instead of talking further.
  Within minutes, my bra was removed and my jeans had been unzipped and pulled from my legs, even as he crawled back up my body after removing his own sweater.  Settled in between my raised knees, Peter kissed me, and held my face with his hands.  He kissed me even as his weight held me down, and I was dying.
  I was so aroused, and turned on, and just ready for him.  I had that strange oogly feeling in my stomach and my hands were desperate to feel him.  I trailed my fingers down his back and tickled his sides briefly as he kissed me and moaned into me.
  Eventually, our bodies started moving against each other- him in his cargo pants and me in my panties.  We continued kissing but I needed more from him.
  When Peter eventually moved to my side, he slowly slipped his hand into my panties, and I nearly jacked off the bed by the feel of total stimulation.  I actually felt my body hot and wet against his fingers.  I felt so aroused I knew I was ready to be taken by him.
  “You're so wet, Sophie... I want to taste you,” Peter suddenly whispered against my mouth embarrassing me. 

  Unbelievably, I remember feeling turned off in that split second from his words, not turned on.  I seemed to freeze all my movements on my bed.  My arousal lessened, and my body froze beside him.
  I didn't know what was wrong, but I was uncomfortable.  Peter's words weren't explicit, or even filthy, but they kind of felt like it to me.  I couldn't explain what I felt, but the atmosphere seemed to change around us and it was completely my fault.
  “What's wrong?” Peter asked sliding his hand away from me.
  “I don't know,” I answered truthfully.  I just wasn't comfortable with him anymore.
  “Tell me exactly what you're thinking right now.  Please?”
  “Darren was too young to be good in bed.  He lasted for like 2 minutes.  And Derek was fast and hard because he thought speed and grinding against me was good sex.  And Joseph wouldn't have acknowledged my body one way or the other.  He just kissed me and then he entered me.  But they all thought I was something to be loved and... But not spoken dirty to,” I admitted trying to look away from him, but he held my face to him so he could look at me.
  “And...?” He pushed.
  “I don't know.  You made me uncomfortable when you talked about me and my body like that.”
  “Saying you were wet?” I nodded. “That’s not a bad thing, Sophie.”
  “I know.  It just embarrassed me for some reason.  I'm not used to dirty talk I guess.  I'm sorry,” I moaned embarrassed while trying to pull my face away again.
  “That wasn't dirty talk; that was a sexy observation,” he tried to soothe.
  “I know, but it was different than I know.  But I'm not a freak, or a prude, or anything.  I'm not at all.  I just felt weird when you said that to me, and then I felt...” But I had no more words.  The longer I explained myself the more ridiculous and embarrassed I became.
  “Baby... Remember I told you about the first time sex nervousness and insecurity?  Well, that's this.  That's
all
this is.  You're going to feel insecure about your body, and I'm going to feel insecure about my penis size,” he smirked.  “You’re going to want to move like a pornstar, though it does nothing for you, because you're going to want me to think you're awesome in bed like a pornstar.  And I'm going to hold onto my orgasm for as long as humanly possible, so you think I'm an amazing lover who doesn't get off until you do, even though I'll be thinking about anything other than you so I don't go off quickly,” he smiled again and kissed my lips.  “That’s all this is.  So talk to me instead, and maybe we can avoid the typical mind fucking all couples suffer with during new sex.”
  “I feel like such a child right now,” I whined sounding exactly like a child.
  “Don't.  You're insecure about being with me, and I'm nervous, too.  I could lie here with you for the next 6 hours and tell you everything I find amazing, and beautiful, and sexy about you-”
  “Would you?” I huffed a little nervous laugh.
  “I can if you want,” he smiled.  “Or I could just kiss the shit out of you until you don't feel insecure with me anymore,” he said leaning back down to my lips. “You’re amazing, Sophie.  I promise.”
  “Thank you.  You seem amazing, too.”
  “Do you want me here with you?”
  “Yes...” I whispered because I really did.
  “Then be here with me, and let me be here with you.”
  When I nodded, Peter started another one of his long, drugging kisses that sipped at my lips and stole the thoughts right out of my head.
  However long later, Peter was back in my panties, slipping them from my body as he stopped kissing me and moved down me as well.
  Naturally, I was insecure again.  I thought of my scent, and I feared my taste for him.  I know women are always nervous of that, and I was no different.  So I tried hard to stop my nervousness until I realized Peter was looking right at my body but doing nothing to me.
  “Your scent is amazing, Sophie, if you're worried, and I can't wait to taste you,” he said staring at my eyes as he slowly licked me with a moan.
  When I moaned in return, Peter began.  With his fingers he impaled me and with his tongue he consumed me.  He spent forever between my thighs, and though I writhed and moaned I couldn't quite get over.  I was stuck, as usual, at that plateau between arousal and pain.  I hit the edge where I had to stop, because I just couldn't take the intensity anymore. Begging him to stop, I pulled his face away from my body.
  “Have you ever had an orgasm before?” Peter asked gently crawling up my body to rest his head on my chest.

   Stroking his hair from his face, I admitted, “Yes, but not with a partner.  My body's weird.  I hit a plateau I can't get over, then again it happens, until usually the third time I can get off.  But I've only been able to do that with a toy or in the shower,” I admitted totally embarrassed.
  “Why not with a partner who knew the issue you had?”
  “I don't know.  They never tried three times? Once I learned I
could
get off if I stopped twice and went back until usually the third time I succeeded, it just seemed like too much work with my last boyfriend.  I don't know why.  I just can't orgasm with the first or second round of stimulation.  It's not you, I swear,” I spoke again feeling mortified but not wanting Peter to feel inadequate in any way.
  “Please don't be embarrassed with me, Sophie.  I want to know everything about you, and these are the things I want to know.  Knowing what you need is what I want.  Knowing what will bring you closer to me, is what I crave.  I
need
to know you, Sophie.”
  Oh,
shit! 
He was saying those things in an environment of insecurity, and he was making me all screwed up again.  I wanted to cry at his sweetness.  I wanted to kiss him and love him, and make him mine forever.  I actually wanted him as a forever.
  6 days after our first afternoon together, and 5 days after our first kiss, I was thinking of forever with Peter.  I was thinking of forever in a way that mapped out my entire future.  I was thinking of the forever where I looked at this man and knew I was secure and happy and fulfilled for the rest of my life with him.
  There was no rhyme or reason to it, and there was no stopping the feelings in my chest.  I just felt them and I hated them.  Actually, I feared them mostly, I think.
  I thought of every insta-love book I had ever read and rolled my eyes.  I thought of my parents telling me and Steven since birth that they knew the very millisecond they met that they were meant to live for each other.  I thought of all the cheesy romantic films I didn't understand and all the clichéd saying of love at first sight that made me laugh.
  I thought about everything, until I realized tears were slowly falling down my temples into my hair and onto my pillow.
  All I knew for sure as I lay on my bed with Peter against my chest was I wanted to love this man forever.
  When Peter eventually lifted his head and saw my tears, I smiled and shook my head 'don't ask', so he didn't.  Crawling back up my body, he cradled me into his chest and began talking about everything and nothing again to ease the upset in the room.
  I learned that he loved his sisters, but that they had tortured their younger brother growing up.  He even joked that I better not ever try to put makeup on him because he had deep physiological scars from it, making me laugh at his seriousness of tone.
  I learned Peter was bullied in Grade 7 when he transferred to a new school.  Then one day in November, after 2 months of daily bullying, one of the asshole bullies took his notebook away from him and saw Peter’s cartoon drawings.  The bully started making fun of Peter's drawings until he slowly stopped and said they were really good. 
  Peter told me while grinning that he was a wimp and scared to death of the grade 7 and 8's at his new school, but after the notebook incident, Peter was slowly welcomed into the fold, and even praised for his cool superhero drawings by the other kids.
  Peter was always a decent student, but he never tried hard in school, and he admitted to coasting through school on his charming, quiet personality. 

  Peter told me he was just average in life, except with drawing.  After high school he received his scholarship to the only art College he ever wanted to attend but he was shocked by how hard he found direction, and his inability to produce anything worthwhile when he attended.  Inevitably, after much thought he chose to quit art school instead of suffering to the point of hating drawing.
  He told me about his parents who were a teacher and a nurse, and very average people.  He loved his sister's and one of their husbands but didn’t like the fake persona the other brother-in-law exuded.  But he loved his 4 nieces and nephews, so he played nice with said pretentious brother-in-law to keep the peace in the family.
  Peter spoke and I took in each and every little piece of information I could.  I loved hearing him speak, and I loved learning everything I could about him.
  However long later he did try to engage me as well.  He asked questions I answered and many I didn't.  I gave him the bare minimum to appease him, but nothing too soul defining or telling.
  And if I had to explain my aloofness at that time with Peter, it would be this; I was afraid to give him more of myself when I was too insecure about the future for us. 

  I wanted a forever with this man, but I feared the ending.  I felt nervous about giving more of myself that he could hurt me with later, because that was what I felt with Peter.  I felt the absolute reality of being hurt by him.  I knew the depth of my feelings were insane, and I knew I hadn't ever felt this way about anyone else in my life. 

  Therefore, Peter became the one man who could leave
me
- making me hurt forever when he left.