AZ

AZ called me the other day. He was showing a house in my neighborhood and decided to call me. We talked for a few minutes, then we hung up, then he called back. Not much time to say anything really. Just, "How have you been? Blah, blah, blah." But it made me think of him in deeper terms. About one of the things that he and I did together. I don’t really remember how we came to be together that night/morning. It was probably 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning as he still had long hair, which meant he was still working at the bar. I was undoubtedly in college. I would have been at the bar or met him there after closing time. Maybe I waited for him outside of his house. I love the way he kisses. Its something that I miss and wish I had. Just one more time. Every January adds one more year that we haven’t. Maybe it’s the first week in February. How time flies. We’ve known each other almost 13 years. The last time we kissed was 1995. The last time I had my mouth wrapped around his dick was December 2003. Way too long. But this happened before we stopped kissing. It was before Nate and Nate’s dad. I don’t even remember the time of year. What I do remember is laying in his king size bed. Maybe we were sweaty or it was just a combination of bar grime and lovin’ that prompted him to pull me up and out of the bed. Against my protests he pushed me into the bathroom and started the shower. He pulled me in behind him, then circled me around and lead me into the water. I remember his soapy hands starting at my neck and working their way down over my breasts, slow circles on my belly and slipping between my legs and over my thighs. I threaded my fingers in his and rubbed his hands over my nipples and then I turned and pressed my soapy body against his. I soaped his body as he had mine and then I turned and pressed my back against him as once again he prompted me under the shower spray and then we turned and rinsed his soap off. I can still fill his slick chest rubbing and sliding against my back and shoulders. My shoulders are one of my most erogenous zones. It wasn’t as much sexual though, as intimate. I know he kissed me in the shower. I know he helped dry me off and then I him. I know he took me by the hand and we went back to the bedroom, with damp bodies and wet hair. I know he laid against my back, one arm under my head, one arm across my waist, our hands entwined, his nose pressed into the hollow of my neck. He’s the only man I’ve ever bathed with and even though I know things are not going to progress or work out with us, I still miss him. I started writing him a letter on Friday, sure that I won’t have much time with Nanwrimo to write to him. Sometimes though, I don’t know what to say. Things were so uncomplicated then, even though we thought they were complicated. We both realize that now. But we both also know, we can’t live there. Our lives are here. Our lives are now. But don’t think that I wouldn’t, just for one day, that day, go back.