It was almost evening when you invited me to a bonfire at your friend’s house. The sky was burning too, streaks of orange and magenta, the final gasps of summer stretched across the horizon. I hadn’t planned on leaving my house but it was too beautiful outside to say no. It was the kind of late August night where the warmth of the day faded slowly, blurring the boundaries between skin and air, begging you to come be a part of it. Besides, I wanted to see you.
We had been friends for most of our lives, our families intertwined. Car pools, trick-or-treating, occasional playdates in the backyard. We weren’t inseparable but you were a consistent presence in my life, a mutual reminder of the passing of time. We stayed in touch from our separate colleges, made plans to hang out whenever we were both in town.
I’m not really sure when I started to look at you differently. With curiosity. Hope. Maybe it was sometime during puberty, my feelings for you transforming and expanding, growing in sync with our bodies. Or maybe it was always there, dormant but waiting. I suspect it just happened too slowly for me to understand. A single drop at a time, over a decade to discover that I was undeniably adrift. That I was in love with you.
A cliche, I know. But I couldn’t help it.
I pulled up to the house, parked amongst the cars scattered along the street, and made the long trek from the house back to the bonfire. Shadows became figures and figures became faces, I immediately looked for yours. I found you near the side of the yard by the woods, talking on your phone. I waved, and you told whoever you were speaking to that you’d call them right back.
“Hey!” You exclaimed, reaching out to hug me.
“Hey indeed!” I responded, smiling. You told me you were glad that I made it and asked if I needed a drink. I dug around in my bag, produced a can of wine and motioned a little ‘tada’.
“You brought wine to a bonfire?” You laughed, “That seems…wrong.”
“Come on! It’s in a can,” I defended myself, pretending to be hurt. “That’s got to count for something.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Debatable.” Then, motioning towards the fire, “I saved you a seat.”
I noticed the two empty chairs beside each other and thanked you for grabbing me one. You told me that you’d be right over as soon as you finished your phone call and I smiled, muttered “no worries,” and walked back towards the fire.
I made my rounds, saying hello to the few faces I recognized before getting comfortable in my chair, the heat from the fire gently warming my face. Your chair stayed empty. Occasionally someone drunk would wander over, sit in it for a bit, light a cigarette or a joint and then wander off again. Sometimes they’d ask me if I wanted a hit or a shot but I would show them my drink and smile, tell them I’m good. I wondered when you might join the rotating selection beside me.
After transferring enough Sauvignon Blanc from the can into my body I realized, begrudgingly, that I really needed to pee. The house looked so far away, and I had discovered upon standing that I might bursa escort be slightly tipsier than anticipated. I’m a nervous drinker, it’s a temperamental hazard. “Ugh,” I grumbled, honestly debating whether I could just avoid urination for the remainder of the evening. No, I decided, might as well get it over with. I wandered over to the edge of the woods, switched on my phone’s flashlight.
I wasn’t sure how deep into the woods I needed to go, but I wanted to get away from the fire and any of the small groups collecting around the fringe. I ventured through the growth, reminding myself that we have almost no major predators in our town. That it was unlikely I would be mauled by a raccoon. Or a rabid squirrel. Could I kick a fox, if it came down to it? I hoped I wouldn’t have to, they’re awfully cute.
Finally, much farther in than I had intended to explore, I noticed a clearing ahead. A small glade in the trees, curling roots giving way to grass. I could see a little better here without the phone, the moonlight filtering through breaks in the foliage, flooding the soft ground in the center. I stayed just outside of it, beside a tall oak. I lifted my skirt and pulled down my underwear, leaning against the bark as I lowered my hands to the ground.
It wasn’t dirt I felt beneath my fingers. It was something large. Slimy. Bulbous.
“Crrrrrrrrrrrroak.”
I shrieked, fell to my ass as the frog hopped away. I burst into laughter. Thank god I didn’t start peeing yet, I thought, both relieved and slightly disappointed that nobody was around to see what just happened. Eventually I dusted myself off and went back to business, still giggling at the unexpected course of events. I stood back up afterwards, straightened my skirt.
Fuck. My battery was dead.
I needed the flashlight on my phone, I had gone too far into the woods and while I was pretty sure I knew how to get back out, I wasn’t positive. I told myself to calm down, that I could still clearly hear the party even if I couldn’t see it. I walked in that direction, lifting my feet carefully, praying I wouldn’t trip as the music and voices from the fire got louder and louder. I was still staring at the ground when I almost ran straight into you, zipping up your pants.
“Oh my god,” I clutched my chest. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“Someone saw you wander off and I wanted to make sure you were ok,” you explained. “But then, well, I really had to piss.” Neither of us mentioned that if I’d arrived a few seconds earlier or if you’d turned a few degrees north, I might have caught you holding yourself.
“It’s cool, I had to go too,” I announced. A touch embarrassed. But then I remembered the story and I knew I had to share it with you. “I fell over actually. There was a frog…”
“A frog?” You looked at me, smiling, confused.
“Yes! A frog! Or a toad. Probably a frog,” I laughed, realizing I didn’t actually know the difference. “I almost squished it.”
“Was it big?” You grinned, humoring me.
“Oh, definitely,” I spread my hands out, bursa escort bayan showing you roughly the measurements of an obese chihuaha. “HUGE.”
“Well shit, I’ve gotta see this guy. Which way do we go?”
I pointed towards the direction of the clearing and you took off, making sure to light the way for us both. You looked back and offered me your hand, my heart racing as I accepted it. I held it lightly, afraid that if I squeezed too hard you might realize the truth. A simple fact.
I would have followed you anywhere.
We scanned the ground outside the clearing for a moment, fully aware of the futility of our mission but having fun. You suggested that he may have hopped into the grass and I concurred, we should investigate further. I was examining the ground for signs of life when my foot caught in a divot, and I tumbled onto my knees.
“Hey, are you alright?” You head towards me, extending your hand to pull me back up.
I’m fine, no breaks or bruises, but kneeling there, looking at your outstretched hand, I understand that I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to leave this spot. My eyes meet yours, try to find the words. It turns out you don’t need them.
You sit down beside me, your arms draped over your knees. You look straight ahead, then up at the stars. “Ok,” you say quietly, closing your eyes, “ok,” and I’m not sure whether it’s for me or for yourself. We sit together like this, silent except for our breath, the sound of crickets, the slight hint of distant music. Eventually you turn to face me, and you ask me softly if I want to head back to the fire. I shake my head, whisper no.
“Neither do I,” you confess. You lean towards me, your fingers slipping behind my ear, burying them into the soft waves of my hair, pulling me towards you. I close my eyes as your mouth meets mine, my fingers lightly trailing down the back of your neck. You kiss me again, your hand moving from my hair to my jaw, my collarbone. Your fingers graze my shoulder, every nerve alive, electric, traveling to the deepest reaches of my body, carrying a single message- I’m yours. You unbutton your shirt, my hand following above your hands, touching every inch of skin as you reveal it, grateful for it all.
You set your shirt on the ground behind me, help me lift mine over my head. You lower me carefully, one hand behind your neck and another wrapped around your arm, feeling it tense. You ask me if this is ok but I’m more than ok, I’m practically radiating light. I could compete with the moon right now.
I arch my back off of the ground just enough to unhook my bra. You lift it off of me, kiss my mouth, my neck, reach for my breast. Feel how perfectly I fit into your hand. Your lips lightly brushing my skin as you move them down my chest, flicking your tongue against my nipple before taking it into your mouth. You tease me as my breath quickens, your hands on my body even more incredible than I had imagined, and I’d been imagining it for years. I sigh, whisper your name, bring your face back to mine.
I reach down escort bursa to your pants, tight and stretched around you. I run my hand over the strain, shocked by how badly I need to feel it. Please, I think. Please let me touch you. I unbutton you, pull down your zipper, slide my hand into your waistband and wrap it around your cock. “Oh,” I exhale, surprised. You’re slightly thicker than I’d imagined, I run my fingers over your tip, my thumb lightly rubbing the line where your head meets your shaft and I tighten my hand around you again. Move it up and down the length of you. You close your eyes, tell me how long you’ve thought about me touching you. I tell you I thought it about it too. And that I’d imagine you alone when I was in college, picturing you running your hands along yourself, soft and then hard. Slowly and then faster. I wondered whether you ever thought about me the way I was thinking about you.
Your hand slips under my skirt, squeezing my thigh as you move between them. Your fingers deftly pushing aside my panties, exploring what had always been hidden to you, the outside of my body first, smooth and wet, softly swollen with arousal. You draw them into of me, a call and an answer, my hips moving with you, pushing back. My body aching for more. Pleading for it. You take your fingers out again, teasing my clit, I start rubbing your cock more aggressively. I need to feel it inside of me. I don’t think I can wait any longer.
I kiss your neck, your earlobe, gently pulling with my teeth. “I want this,” I tell you, “you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”
“I do,” you say. “Trust me, I do.”
I open my legs for you as you brace yourself over me, press your tip against my pussy, entering me slowly, savoring it. I tilt my head back, wonder how something that almost hurts can also feel so beautiful, so absolutely necessary. Removing the space between us, a place where distance should never have been.
I spread my hands over your back when you push into me again, grasp onto your shoulders, lightly run my nails over your skin. You hold on to me tightly, thrust into me harder. Years of desire distilled into movement.
I tell you to let me on top and we roll over in the grass. You lie back, watch while I fill my own body with yours, riding against you, your hand on my hips and the other reaching for my tits, my nipple between your fingers. Our bodies pushing and pulling, coaxing lightning out from the dark. Begging it to strike.
It hits me first and I gasp, let you know that I’m cumming, watching as it spreads to you. Your fingers digging into my flesh, eyes locked with mine. Filling me with everything you can no longer contain. This moment. This moment I want to remember.
I lift myself off of you slowly afterwards, recline next to you in the grass. You reach for your shirt, wrap it around me and move your arm under my head.
“Wow,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “Why the hell did we wait so long to do that??”
You laugh, kiss me, lingering. “I have no idea.”
We lie there together, side by side, looking up at the stars, pointing out the few constellations we know. Orion looking back at us. Eventually you ask me if I’m ready to go back to the fire and I curl up against you, tell you no, not quite yet.
Somewhere, off in the woods, we hear the unmistakable sound of a frog. Calling out to another.