Ulf couldn't
remember when he had last been welcomed that way. Whenever it was, if
it had ever been, it lay more than half his life in the past.
Before he managed
to break free of that last kiss he felt a burning desire to undress
her. She had been anything but shy, clinging to him suggestively
enough that they could as well have been naked.
It's been more
than half a year. He'd never been together with a girl for that
long before sleeping with her before.
“Should we get
inside?” Ulf suggested.
“Uhum?”
Christina answered, but she didn't let go of him.
“You're getting
drenched,” Ulf tried again. “Like really drenched.”
“Uhum,” she
offered, this time a statement rather than a question.
I guess I'm
not going home tonight. It scared him a little, because it meant
taking yet another step away from his previous life. But damn I
want her! Which scared him as well.
Whatever
mind-reading techniques Christina used must have worked, because she
finally let go of his body and pulled him inside her tiny flat.
He had been here
a few times. More often than the friends he visited, but still not as
frequently as he remembered from his earlier girlfriends. Now as in
his previous life that word resonated strangely in his mind.
Girlfriend.
After close to a
quarter of a century spent married to Maria that word only
represented a very scant part of his life. Marriage was the normal
state, but for the friends he had made in this life marriage was an
abstract thing in the distant future.
Looking at
Christina's back as she hurried to the small stove he realised that
despite being his age she couldn't share his reflections. To her
marriage was just as much an abstraction. In her case probably more a
matter of a lingering question and possibly regret as she was bound
to have wondered when she saw those around her get married and raise
children.
The smell of food
brought Ulf out of his meandering thoughts and he went to the
cupboard and helped setting the table.
As usual her
cooking showed more signs of gusto than any real ability.
“It's good,”
Ulf said after they sat down to eat, but he knew Christina was well
aware of her limits in the kitchen. Hers hadn't been a life where she
could indulge in domestic chores. “It's really good,” he said
when unexpected flavours mixed in his mouth.
“It is, isn't
it?” she said and beamed at him. “I might have overdone things a
bit, but I wanted to give it my best shot.”
How long did
you spend learning to cook this meal? “I'm honoured you'd do
this for me,” Ulf said. He heard how hollow his words were. Rather
he would have preferred to tell her how the warmth in his stomach had
less to do with the food he ate than the feelings burning him from
within. I love you, I really do love you, but I can't tie you down
with those words.
“Happy to
oblige,” she grinned. She still had some food in her mouth, and
when she giggled some of it threatened to come out.
Ulf stared at her
when she blushed violently with both hands clasped to her mouth. Her
sudden poor table manners just made him ache for her even more.
From there on
their meal got more awkward, and it was with a sense of relief Ulf
rose and made the dishes.
When he returned
with a small teapot and two mugs he noticed that unlike the times he
had visited Christina before her futon didn't lay rolled up against
the wall. That meant it probably lay neatly stacked in its cupboard,
and from that thought Ulf gave her flat a closer look.
She really did
clean it up this time. Food and flat, hmm. Ulf looked at
Christina where she sat pretending to decorate a tray with cookies. I
can't tell from your clothes or make-up, your skills are way beyond
my awareness. But your desk is disorderly in just the right way for
me.
There were a few
other signs Christina had spent more than the normal time preparing
for his visit. Her small home had been thoroughly made to make him
feel welcome, even to the point that he wouldn't want to leave. The
suspicions he had on his way here grew stronger, and along with
rising anticipation a feeling of discomfort spread through him.
Won't it be
unfair of me to sleep with her unless I tell her I love her? But
that was the thought of a teenager, and he wasn't really a teenager
any more, was he? Shouldn't
you decide what's unfair to you or not, the way I decide for myself.
And that was the thought of an adult. Each person was responsible for
his or her actions and reactions. There
was an academic construction, interpretative prerogative, which could
be applied to a situation like this.
“Christina,”
Ulf began, “how close have we become?”
She looked up
from her cookies and met his eyes. That was a question he wouldn't
have dared to ask thirty
years earlier, and one she couldn't have answered when
she was that young.
“We're
boyfriend and girlfriend,”
she said. “still in the infatuation phase because we haven't had
sex yet.”
Yep,
definitely two adults playing teenagers playing adults. Damn this is
confusing!
Ulf felt his body
reacting to her words exactly the way she had known he would.
“And now is
when you want us to take a step further?” he said in a rather
failed attempt to play it cool. It didn't really matter. From here on
he could only keep up his part of a script with an ending Christina
had decided from the start.
“We're not
kids.”
“That doctor
said we still are, despite our subjective age.”
“I don't plan
to take that doctor with me into the shower.”
Damn, you sure
know how to play this game. She hadn't as much as loosened her
clothes, but Ulf felt the heat rise just from her words.
“I could use a
shower,” Ulf said in a last attempt to take control of the
conversation with a poor joke.
He shared that
shower with Christina, and after that he shared the night with her.
In the end half a year's worth of pent up desires won, and his last
remnants of reluctance evaporated when she clearly showed him that
hers was half of them.
When they woke
and spoke she told him that to her surprise there was a bit of pain.
While she had the experience her body didn't.
He didn't go home
until late morning.
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