I opened the hotel room door and there was Melinda. She had her short, light-brown hair piled up in bobby pins and wore a long white coat. Jeans rode her womanly hips and dark blue leather boots covered the cute feet I had made her take pictures of.

"Hi" she said in her childlike high voice.

"Hey." I said, a little more nervous than I thought I'd be. She came in. I shut the door behind her. I hugged her. She hugged back gently.

"Give me a real hug." I said quietly.

"You said you like gentle hugs."

"I know. But now I want to feel you up against me."

She hugged me again. Hard. It was an excellent sign that she had remembered that I generally prefer soft hugs. The story of why was very important and I was glad she had remembered it. Once, one of my dear friends, Amanda, had asked me for a hug, which I gave her. A nice, light gentle hug. The kind I like.

"No. Give me a real hug," she said.

"That's a real hug."

"No. A strong hug. A bear hug."

"I'm happy to give you a bear hug if that's what a 'real' hug is to you. But mine is no less 'real' cause it's gentle."

That story is real love, real relationship in action. As simple as it is, it holds the secret to the success of all relationships and if more people understood that and executed its simple steps, infinitely more couples would stay together and friendships would be closer.

Teaching each other how to love. How you feel most loved. It doesn't mean it's not "true love" if your partner can't intuit how you feel most loved. Most desired. Most appreciated. It's nice if you luck out and are on the same page but a simple announcement is all that's required and generally the other person is all too grateful for the map to your heart. Hard hug. Soft hug. Flowers. A note left on the fridge in the morning. A kiss on the back of the neck. A pat on the head as you walk by and I watch the game. Everyone gets it differently. I dated a girl who waited until the tenth date to tell me that she hated being called "sweet." Her father used to call her that and it made her blood boil. It's one of my favorite terms of endearment. She wondered why I didn't like her and I wondered how she possibly couldn't know how much I liked her. I was calling her sweet all the time and she was hating it. She said if I called her "beautiful" she would feel I liked her. Done. Easy. But I never would have known had she not told me.

My hotel room was charmingly appointed but small. There were two chairs and a canopy bed. Those were the only places to sit. I hung Melinda's coat over one of the chairs but it just seemed too awkward to sit facing each other in these tall backed chairs so I suggested we jump on the bed. I wanted to be able to feel her whole body next to mine. I didn't want any distance between us. She smiled and jumped on the bed. I followed.

We were laying nose to nose, which I had told her I couldn't wait to do. The only problem was I'm ancient and couldn't fucking see her that close so I had to move back, like, two feet.

"So, do I look like me?" I asked.

"Completely. Do I look like me?"

"Yeah, except you looked so different in so many pictures it's taking me a minute to take you in... but yeah."

We were both nervous and giddy.

"Let's sit up but stay on the bed."

"Okay."

We did. I pulled her close and threw my legs up over her so we could get closer, my legs sticking out behind her back and her legs sticking out behind my back, bent at the knee, like that great position to fuck in that always seems like it's not gonna work but always does really well. It was even hotter because we had jeans on so it was like High School. I moved in and smelled her neck. I whispered, "Is that the perfume I sent you?"

"Uh-huh." She said through her smile. She was making it really fucking hard not to kiss her but I had told her I wouldn't even kiss her on the first real date, let alone do anything else. She had told me she'd want to fuck me when she walked in the door and thought waiting was stupid. I liked her gumption but was trying to wait. Though a Southern lady she liked being dirty in the face of protocol. That's how I am too. I like being a gentleman, unless the set up is different and then I like being a dog. If we're there to fuck then it's game on, if we're there to fall in love, then I like to wait... and then be a dog. Sometimes. Loving and gentle others.

"You smell so fucking good." I loved the sent. It was from L'Occitane. A rip off of Chanel Number 19 which I always had loved. I randomly sampled some Puerto Rican chicks that work the front desk of my gym as to whether or not it would be okay to Fed Ex the perfume as a gift to a girl I hadn't met yet if we had been talking on the phone for 5 days and had exchanged pictures. I wanted to make sure from a female perspective it didn't seem like I was trying to make her into someone she wasn't before I had even smelled her perfume. They all agreed it was sweet and I should do it which was comforting because I had been a tad unnerved by the 25 year old yuppie in the locker room who thought I must be gay or crazy to query him out of the blue even though we both were fully dressed.

"So what do you think? If you had been talking to a girl on the internet for 5 days, would you send her perfume as a gift before you flew to Charleston to see her for the first time?"

"Excuse me?" He was flustered. I should have stopped there but I thought I'd give him a chance to learn what it means to enjoy life and other humans. There apparently wasn't a show about it on MTV so he was lost.

"I met this girl on the internet and I'm flying down to meet her. Do you think it'd be weird for any reason to send her perfume as a gift before I go?"

"I don't know" he said with a nervous laugh. I better make it easier for him.

"Would you do it?"

"I can't say." Now I was just torturing the poor guy but not wanting to give up on him; I gave him one more chance.

"Well, would you or wouldn't you do it?"

"Maybe you should just ask her to lunch." And he got the fuck away from me. I laughed to myself.

"Maybe... I ...should.... just... ask...her...to...lunch." I repeated to myself, suddenly wanting to slit my wrists realizing that he was our future and our present. He was why the world is like it is today.

Thank God for the Puerto Rican girls upstairs. There's hope.

"How long do you think I can go without kissing you?" My lips were behind her left ear, very close to the spot she had told me was her favorite place to be kissed. We talked about a lot on the phone.

"Six minutes." She whispered back in the slightest drawl revealing a small lisp for the first time that I had ever noticed. She was so adorable I couldn't take it.

"You're not getting kissed until tomorrow." I whispered leaving her ear quietly and now putting my lips an inch from hers."

"You'll never make it."

"Yes I will." And I grabbed her and threw her onto her back as evidence of my resolve... and then I got my legs out from under her and got up to my knees over her, in between her legs.

"You have no chance." She said.

"You just watch." And I fell onto her and kissed her. I had been hard all week from the first time she had told me she came really easily and liked best to ride on top. And being in my "saving the chi" mode, I hadn't jerked off in weeks. I had warned her that I was like a 17 year old and might cum during the dry humping make out. She thought that was hot. But I assured her that also like a 17 year old, I would get hard again fast and be able to then act like the man I was and go forever. That was also hot to her. We started kissing fast and hard. It was, after all, really our 6th date in emotional time and she was the one who wanted to fuck straight away anyway so, what the hell, I would sacrifice my needs for hers. I'm giving like that. After teasing her for a while over hers clothes with my hands and lips and breath, I jammed my hand down the back of her jeans and grabbed a handful of her. She had said in her profile that any man that didn't enjoy that should pass her by. I wanted her to know I had been listening to what she thought was important too. She groaned. I went for her button in the front and she grabbed my hand and said...

To be continued...

Posted by Eric Schaeffer at 10:09 AM

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