It is not unusual for me to tell him funny stories about things that happen in my faux love life. I especially like sharing anecdotes with him from my building collection of “When Good Sex Goes Bad” stories. He’s usually amused and so I didn’t think he’d find anything odd about me sharing this experience with him. Although until that point we’d never had a conversation like this in person, I was not shy about sharing with him the gory details of what went down.
“OK, “ I began, “he had his hand on my breast and he leaned over to kiss me and damn, he was a good kisser.”
He nodded his head. His reaction was not what I expected so I continued.
“He was good with his tongue,” I said.
He laughed this time. He kept typing away on his computer like I wasn’t even there and I felt like he was only half listening. I started to get annoyed.
“I want to be kissed like that again and again,” I said.
This time he turned away from the computer and looked at me. We sat there for a beat, looking at each other grinning.
“Yeah,“ he said, “but was he good like this?“
His hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled me closer to him. When our lips pressed together I felt butterflies in my stomach. Fitting, since he was the person that initially introduced me to that song by Michael Jackson.
It dawned on me that I had carried a small crush on him for a while and here we were kissing, something I never thought would happen. The entire time our lips were pressed together I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t protest when I felt him slip his tongue between my lips. It seemed to fill my mouth up; it was all I could do to try and fit my tongue around his.
I pulled back just a little but his tongue didn’t leave my mouth. I took a step back with my foot. His hand moved away from the back of my head, but his tongue remained in my mouth. I took another step back. Still, the tongue. I opened my eyes. We were standing a full two feet apart but his tongue was still in my mouth.
Jesus, I thought. There was a loud noise and I could hear voices shouting from the living room. Someone was blasting the television. I needed to go investigate. He retracted his tongue.
I sat up in the bed and looked around my room. The noise was the television in the other room clicking itself on for the morning news.
Have I mentioned I’ve never met Anil in my life?
I know I'm not the only person to dream about bloggers I've never met. Who have you dreamed about?
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