It seems almost surreal, sitting here with you in the bar. It feels like it's only been a few months but I know it's been years. I'm feeling confident tonight. I was hoping you would come, but I'm surprised to see you. I want to sit down next to you but I make sure there's an empty seat between us. Just being that close is enough. Dangerous. That's the word I think of around you. I haven't seen you since high school, but you still have the same aura of easy going, confident sex appeal. Tonight I want to let go. I want to make you feel what you made me feel all through high school. I want to make you ache for me.
I've missed you since I left for college. Each day I saw you was significant. Walking in to see your smile made my day. And now, sitting with all my college buddies, you smile at me and I can feel my body respond. I've missed that feeling. How can you make me feel so breathless with just a look? I try to act like I can't feel my body responding to you. Not in front of these people. They don't know how we flirted for years, how I never had the nerve to take it beyond friendly joking. Nothing would ever come of it. But I'm not the innocent girl I was four years ago, and I find myself feeling free. I almost want to tell you I wasn't just joking. I almost want to blurt out that all that flirting was true for me. It's not just an attraction, it's like you touch me with your eyes. When I walked by, I would catch the scent of you. When I got home from school, I had to change my panties. I got wet in class thinking about you.
A few beers later and we're all standing up, sitting back down, going back and forth to the bar and to the jukebox. As I come back to the table, you pull out the chair next to you and tell me you want me next to you. I can feel warmth between my thighs when you say that. I know it's a bad idea, but I take the seat. And when I sit down, I make sure my knee touches yours beneath the table. Such a bad idea, but I'm so tired of being good, of telling myself not to act out what I'm thinking. Just for tonight, I want to feel your body next to mine. I notice you seem surprised, you sit up straight. Are you wondering if it was accidental? I scoot my chair a little closer and slip my knee underneath yours. Now you know. That's no accident. I wonder how you'll react. You don't move away. My right thigh is warm against yours.
And it goes like this, for an hour, or maybe two. I'm drinking too much, more than I should. I feel myself passing from tipsy to drunk, and I order another beer anyway. My leg has been touching yours for so long now. My nipples are hard. My skin feels super sensitive. With every movement I feel my clothes against my skin. I'm having trouble following the conversation at the table, but it's not because of the beer. It's because your hand is on my knee. I tell myself that no one at the table will notice. My hands are both on top of the table. I make sure they stay there. I don't want my buddies gossiping about this later. Your hand traces just a little bit up my thigh, and I can feel my legs spreading apart in response. Now I'm thinking we shouldn't go this far. I don't think I can act cool and normal with your hand on my thigh, sliding up. My hand goes under the table to meet yours. I feel a gentle squeeze, and you take my hand over to your thigh.