Some Time Ago

[Dano]

Mark was a poet, in the most romantic notion of the word. He wrote flowery, long-winded odes to the world about him, infusing it with a beauty that was all too often forgotten in our world. He lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment on the 15th floor of the Orpheum building, next door to the opera house and symphonic hall that bore the same name. He ate Ramen at least once a day. He tended bar part-time at an Itallian restaurant. He was the only man I ever fell in love with.

We started hanging out through a mutual friend of ours, since we were both writers. Eventually, said friend faded out of the picture, and Mark and I were alone. We spent a lot of time at the library, talking, writing, getting to know each other. One morning it was closed for a national holiday, so we went for a walk around the park. Forget April in Paris, the real rapture is September in Omaha.

One night, I lost my temper at work and left. When I got home, I called Mark, and asked him to come over. I started cooking dinner while he made the trip, and turned the TV on to a special about Jackson Pollack. He showed up with a bottle of wine, and we settled in.

I sat down on one far end of the couch, and rather than him taking the opposite end or even one of the chairs, he sat right in the middle, close to me. Electricity ran through me as we ate and watched TV and talked.

I got up afterwards to put the dishes in the kitchen and get a CD. He was walking around the room, looking at my posters. Klimt was my favorite, but he preferred the Dali. I turned off the TV and put in the music, sitting back down on the couch. He took up his place in the middle again, and without thinking, it happened.

He leaned over and kissed me, softly. His hand went to my neck and he pulled me closer, his tongue sliding into my mouth slightly. I completely submitted to him, allowing him to do what he wanted. He rolled over and leaned over me, his knee now between my legs, pressing up into me.

I moved my hands to his hair and moand softly. He broke the kiss and moved to my neck, biting and sucking, gentle but insistent. His hand was on my chest, moving into the neck of my t-shirt, and one of mine moved down his back. He bit my ear, and I realized he was doing to me all the things I do to women. It was an odd, exciting feeling, and I wanted so much more of it.

"Let's go into my bedroom..."

His forehead rested against mine, and we both breathed heavily. I looked up at him, and his eyes were closed tight. He stood up, and I held his hand, thinking he was taking me up on my suggestion. Abruptly, he let go and opened his eyes. They were dark and cold and hard.

"I'm sorry Dan. I can't."

I started to stand up, but he was already in the hall, getting his jacket on. I stopped in the doorway. He refused to look at me. Out the door he went.

[This message has been edited by Dano (edited February 07, 2001).]

[Miral]

Wow...out of breath and speechless...I must ask...true story?

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~Now that I have found someone I am feeling more alone than I ever have before.~ Brick: Ben Folds Five
~These posts are for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.~ by D.A.N.
~Murder one I didn't know what I did
I figured it out by murder two
Murder three I stopped feeling ashamed
This is me I'm going for you~ by: dwim

[JaceSan]

Miral, didn't you know that all stories are true?

Cool story Dano. Short and sweet.

[gollum]

wow. why not?

too good, as usual i'm impressed.

-g

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Sometimes i think everyone on this board is crazy. The rest of the time i'm sure. -Dan
somehow i see [gollum] clinging to a tower and rousingly calling for a new world order. -starky
you'd kiss Ersby before you'd kiss me? Wait, I would kiss Ersby before I kissed me too. -Parker Grrl

[Poets]

as usual, I am impressed by you. In more then one way.