Absolute Beginners(13)

The feeling hit me like an anvil and there was no turning back from it. The warmth, the wetness, and the suction increased the intensity of my orgasm up to the point where I thought I might black out. My body felt boneless, and I had never experienced such a feeling of relaxation as the one that followed when she slowly released me. I could barely lift my head to look at her when she curled up next to me. Her warm naked body felt wonderful against mine and I managed to turn my head in her direction before my vision became fuzzy around the edges. Not meaning to, but unable to stop myself, I drifted off to the touch of her hand caressing my chest and the smell of her hair.

* * *

I woke up feeling confused and disoriented. I had no idea how long I had slept or even where I was for a second. It all came rushing back to me, and I sat up slowly when I realized I was alone in the bed.

The room was warm and still glowing from all the candles. Ms. Wilde was sitting in front of her laptop, typing away, wearing headphones. Her back was turned toward me and I frowned when I saw that she had put her hair back up and was now wearing a robe. I looked at my watch and saw that it was midnight. I had slept for a few hours. I was embarrassed that I had passed out on her like that. The men she usually brought home with her most likely didn’t do that. What a disappointment I must have been.

I got out of the bed slowly and put on my boxers, not certain what to do next. I needed the bathroom and should probably alert her to the fact that I was awake. Clearing my throat didn’t get her attention so I gathered up the courage to approach her and put my hand on her shoulder. She jumped when I touched her and she took off her headphones. I could hear music coming from them but couldn’t decipher what it was.

She turned in her chair and smiled up at me. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. Sometimes I sing along without realizing it.”

“No, you didn’t. Can I, uh, can I use your bathroom?” I asked, feeling very awkward and exposed in front of her.

“Sure,” she said simply and I hurried away.

After using the facilities, I looked at myself in the mirror and tried to make myself calm down. I had no idea what she expected of me now. We hadn’t slept together but we had engaged in sexual activity.

The most gratifying sexual activity of my life.

Would it be considered rude if I left now? She hadn’t gotten anything out of it, but I knew I couldn’t return the favor in any satisfactory way since oral sex was completely unchartered territory for me. I had never even had a one-night stand before. My few short-term relationships had all ended after the first awkward attempt at sex, and I had never been asked to stay over afterward. Being in a woman’s apartment after sexual intimacy was an entirely new experience for me, and I had no idea how to proceed. After a few moments of blind panic, I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked from the kitchen.

“Sure,” I said, although I wasn’t sure about anything at this point.

“Honey?”

She’s calling me “honey”? Is she under the impression that we’re in a relationship now?

“Stephen, do you want honey in your tea?”

Oh. I’m an idiot.

“Yes, please,” I answered, trying to figure out where I should sit—the bed, her office chair at the desk, or the beat-up armchair. I chose the last, sitting down and trying to get comfortable in this strange place. Looking around the room, I noticed that there were a lot of pictures and paintings on the walls. They were all different sizes, colors, and styles but that didn’t surprise me. The entire apartment was an interior decorator’s worst nightmare. Ms. Wilde came out of the kitchen and handed me a mug. I looked at it and saw that it said “The London Dungeon” in bright red letters.

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“It’s a historical walk-through of London’s past. You get to experience the plague, the Great Fire of 1666, and Jack the Ripper. You know, stuff like that. It’s scary as hell, but so much fun.”

“Oh, OK,” I said.

Pandemics and serial killers. What’s fun about that?

I took a careful sip. It didn’t taste like the tea I was used to. The mug was black so I couldn’t see the color of the liquid in it.

“What is this?” I asked, tasting it again.

“It’s green tea with jasmine and honey. Do you like it?”

I nodded. I hadn’t tried any of the new teas that had flooded the market in the past few years. I stuck to the same brand that I’d always bought, but I had to admit that this was very tasty and much less bitter than what I had at home.

Her phone vibrated on the desk and she walked over to pick it up.