hpdrifter
01-02-2013, 05:48 PM
My NYE this year was the best of my life so far. I kind of didn't even realize that until I just wrote it but it was!
Let me start from the beginning, I want to record as much detail as I can while I still remember everything because I don't want to forget a moment of it. If memories were like movies I would play this one every day. After the most difficult year of my life (divorce, single parent-hood, upside down mortgage which I now pay on my own), it was a glorious respite.
I went to Mt. Hood with a friend from work and on New Year's Eve we went out to dinner and to a few bars. None were really happening so we ended up at a sort of townie bar (Double something or other) that a couple of people had recommended and was slightly more hoppin than the other places we went. I noticed several good looking guys (there is a serious population of good-looking people in Hood River, Oregon. Seriously, Hood River, give yourselves a hand).
Anyway, the one I liked the best (my exact type, dark hair and eyes, close clipped mustache/beard thing. Basically probably just hadn't shaved for a few days. Sweatshirt, jeans and an old beat up ball cap with the bill bent like it was 1997), seemed perpetually beset by a less than attractive blond in a Happy New Year headband and the friend that he was with, who seemed much older than he was, kept looking at me. So I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't going to happen, though I continued attempts to make eye contact and demonstrate interest.
Midnight came and went, I toasted with my friend Randy, who kissed my cheek. I was considering calling it a night when I noticed that his friend was leaving and the annoying blond had made herself scarce, thank god. Before I really knew what was happening I had walked up to him and let him know that his friend had left (he was not around when homedude bailed). I smiled, he smiled. He was obviously very shy and quiet. It was loud, I asked him if he wanted to have a cigarette. He said he didn't smoke but would come outside with me. So we went outside, shy smiles and small talk were exchanged. He told me the best runs to take at Hood (Jacob's ladder which turned out to be a double black, yeah right!). I asked him if he wasn't freezing standing outside with me since he didn't have a coat (he wasn't).
We went back inside, he wanted to buy me a beer. He held my hand as we pushed through the crowd and I stood behind him at the bar and put my hand on his back, like I knew him, like I was comfortable with him, and I was. But the bar was closing. It was early, just a few minutes after midnight, so we followed the crowd to the other cool bar in Hood River. He gave me his gloves because it was cold and held my hand as we walked.
He bought me a beer there (PBR tall boy) and we found a booth in the corner where the crowd volume was slightly quieter. He asked me where I was from, how long I was in town etc. We talked a little more, a giddy, shy, wonderful Q&A. And then he kissed me. He. Kissed. Me. Now maybe this is how it always is for other people, boy kisses girl, but most certainly not in my experience. Usually there is a lot of awkwardness, a lot of is he going to? dancing around it, turning your head the right way, leaning in, waiting and more waiting. But not this time. Like it was the smoothest, easiest thing in the world he just leaned his head in and kissed me. Crowd noise stops, time slows down, movie close up. And he was a good kisser. No tongue down throat, darting, teeth licking, neck crunching suffocating weirdness. Just a soft but firm, lip-to-lip, head tilted to the side, real kiss. And it went on, in the crowd and chaos of this ski-bum bar, lips touching, taking a breath, touching again, hands gently brushing jawlines and necks. Just good, old-fashioned making out. Like I was 16 (if I had made out with boys when I was 16). Kissing like you could kiss for hours. I whispered I was sorry because I probably tasted like cigarettes, he smiled and whispered back no I didn't.
Somehow I found the nerve to ask him to come to my room with me. He asked where I was staying and I told him and remarked that there was no heat in my room (which was true) and would he like to come back there with me and keep me warm. But then it was decided for reasons of convenience and the lack of any open or nearby drug stores that we would go to his house because he had the requisite provisions there. (I take a moment to pause and assert that I realize that going to a total stranger's house was a risk but I do not want to dwell on this because nothing bad happened and the story is so beautiful. So risk duly noted, let's move on.)
So we left, we walked in the beautiful town of Hood River on a cold snowy night. Again he gave me his gloves and held my hand. We walked and talked and laughed with our arms around each other. We slipped and stumbled on the snowy roads. We walked in the lamplight in the middle of the empty streets. He kept telling me he was sorry and he felt bad because he lived at the top of a hill. I laughed and told him I didn't care and I loved the exercise. He told me he has a dog but that she is very mellow and will not bark at me. He lives in a house by himself (I noted the cross streets for when I'm an old lady and want to wander, misty-eyed, past this place of fondest memory). She is a sweet, dear old dog. White as the snow outside and gentle as it was when it fell. We both greet her, she rolls onto her back so we can rub her tummy and tell her what a good girl she is.
He had a wood burning stove (I know, I swear I am not making this up) and literally built me a fire to warm me up. And then kissed me again, easy as pie, smooth as butter. For someone obviously so shy and quiet, he had no problem making the moves with confidence and ease.
The next bit is R-rated so if you don't want to blush you should stop reading now.
Took me in his arms and kissed me, wrapped his hands around my back and lead me into his bedroom, kissing me the whole time. No stumbling or tripping over each other, not even in the dark, better dancing than Fred Afuckingstaire and Ginger Goddamnrogers. Flannel sheets, warm quilt. And then, well you know what happens next. Sensual, sexy, exciting, hot. All of the above. Dirty but not filthy, not gross, not disgusting. Not disrespectful, not using me. Enjoying me, enjoying us. Hair pulling (both of us), embracing, rolling over and over each other. Swearing, moans, sighs, gasps, yelps. Him telling me you're so hot, you're so sexy, so cute, so pretty, so beautiful. Whispering my name in my ear. Sex and fucking and making love over and over. Finishing and then starting again with a word or touch or deliberately misplaced limb. Talking in between. He's from Detroit, he just went home for a visit but is glad to be back in Oregon. He works at the bike shop in town and likes to mountain bike. He has a map of the world taped to the wall at the foot of his bed so he can wake up in the morning and daydream about the places he'd like to visit (I know, don't even, it's real, every word). He had a girlfriend but not anymore. He has had his heart broken but is over it now.
All of a sudden it's 4am.
"I have to leave, you need to get some sleep. "
" No, stay, you can go home in the morning, I'll drive you. Stay with me."
"No, I should go, we've been up all night, you must be exhausted and I have to get up early."
"Well at least let me drive you."
"No, I'll walk it isn't far."
"But it's freezing!"
"It's okay, I need the fresh air."
"Well let me give you something, a hat (he gives me an awesome, high quality gray and black knit beanie that somehow fits my freakishly small head perfectly)."
"Can I have your number? You know, in case you ever come back to Hood River."
"Yes." (though I don't expect him to call, and it doesn't really matter if he does anyway)
And then I float back to the motel, the snow turned to clouds beneath my feet. Skipping along, not even a little bit clumsy on the icy sidewalks. Not feeling the cold or the exhaustion. I indulge myself in a little hop up in the air. I fling my arms up and squeal.
If I hadn't lived it I wouldn't believe how perfect it was. But I did live it and it is real, every word.
Let me start from the beginning, I want to record as much detail as I can while I still remember everything because I don't want to forget a moment of it. If memories were like movies I would play this one every day. After the most difficult year of my life (divorce, single parent-hood, upside down mortgage which I now pay on my own), it was a glorious respite.
I went to Mt. Hood with a friend from work and on New Year's Eve we went out to dinner and to a few bars. None were really happening so we ended up at a sort of townie bar (Double something or other) that a couple of people had recommended and was slightly more hoppin than the other places we went. I noticed several good looking guys (there is a serious population of good-looking people in Hood River, Oregon. Seriously, Hood River, give yourselves a hand).
Anyway, the one I liked the best (my exact type, dark hair and eyes, close clipped mustache/beard thing. Basically probably just hadn't shaved for a few days. Sweatshirt, jeans and an old beat up ball cap with the bill bent like it was 1997), seemed perpetually beset by a less than attractive blond in a Happy New Year headband and the friend that he was with, who seemed much older than he was, kept looking at me. So I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't going to happen, though I continued attempts to make eye contact and demonstrate interest.
Midnight came and went, I toasted with my friend Randy, who kissed my cheek. I was considering calling it a night when I noticed that his friend was leaving and the annoying blond had made herself scarce, thank god. Before I really knew what was happening I had walked up to him and let him know that his friend had left (he was not around when homedude bailed). I smiled, he smiled. He was obviously very shy and quiet. It was loud, I asked him if he wanted to have a cigarette. He said he didn't smoke but would come outside with me. So we went outside, shy smiles and small talk were exchanged. He told me the best runs to take at Hood (Jacob's ladder which turned out to be a double black, yeah right!). I asked him if he wasn't freezing standing outside with me since he didn't have a coat (he wasn't).
We went back inside, he wanted to buy me a beer. He held my hand as we pushed through the crowd and I stood behind him at the bar and put my hand on his back, like I knew him, like I was comfortable with him, and I was. But the bar was closing. It was early, just a few minutes after midnight, so we followed the crowd to the other cool bar in Hood River. He gave me his gloves because it was cold and held my hand as we walked.
He bought me a beer there (PBR tall boy) and we found a booth in the corner where the crowd volume was slightly quieter. He asked me where I was from, how long I was in town etc. We talked a little more, a giddy, shy, wonderful Q&A. And then he kissed me. He. Kissed. Me. Now maybe this is how it always is for other people, boy kisses girl, but most certainly not in my experience. Usually there is a lot of awkwardness, a lot of is he going to? dancing around it, turning your head the right way, leaning in, waiting and more waiting. But not this time. Like it was the smoothest, easiest thing in the world he just leaned his head in and kissed me. Crowd noise stops, time slows down, movie close up. And he was a good kisser. No tongue down throat, darting, teeth licking, neck crunching suffocating weirdness. Just a soft but firm, lip-to-lip, head tilted to the side, real kiss. And it went on, in the crowd and chaos of this ski-bum bar, lips touching, taking a breath, touching again, hands gently brushing jawlines and necks. Just good, old-fashioned making out. Like I was 16 (if I had made out with boys when I was 16). Kissing like you could kiss for hours. I whispered I was sorry because I probably tasted like cigarettes, he smiled and whispered back no I didn't.
Somehow I found the nerve to ask him to come to my room with me. He asked where I was staying and I told him and remarked that there was no heat in my room (which was true) and would he like to come back there with me and keep me warm. But then it was decided for reasons of convenience and the lack of any open or nearby drug stores that we would go to his house because he had the requisite provisions there. (I take a moment to pause and assert that I realize that going to a total stranger's house was a risk but I do not want to dwell on this because nothing bad happened and the story is so beautiful. So risk duly noted, let's move on.)
So we left, we walked in the beautiful town of Hood River on a cold snowy night. Again he gave me his gloves and held my hand. We walked and talked and laughed with our arms around each other. We slipped and stumbled on the snowy roads. We walked in the lamplight in the middle of the empty streets. He kept telling me he was sorry and he felt bad because he lived at the top of a hill. I laughed and told him I didn't care and I loved the exercise. He told me he has a dog but that she is very mellow and will not bark at me. He lives in a house by himself (I noted the cross streets for when I'm an old lady and want to wander, misty-eyed, past this place of fondest memory). She is a sweet, dear old dog. White as the snow outside and gentle as it was when it fell. We both greet her, she rolls onto her back so we can rub her tummy and tell her what a good girl she is.
He had a wood burning stove (I know, I swear I am not making this up) and literally built me a fire to warm me up. And then kissed me again, easy as pie, smooth as butter. For someone obviously so shy and quiet, he had no problem making the moves with confidence and ease.
The next bit is R-rated so if you don't want to blush you should stop reading now.
Took me in his arms and kissed me, wrapped his hands around my back and lead me into his bedroom, kissing me the whole time. No stumbling or tripping over each other, not even in the dark, better dancing than Fred Afuckingstaire and Ginger Goddamnrogers. Flannel sheets, warm quilt. And then, well you know what happens next. Sensual, sexy, exciting, hot. All of the above. Dirty but not filthy, not gross, not disgusting. Not disrespectful, not using me. Enjoying me, enjoying us. Hair pulling (both of us), embracing, rolling over and over each other. Swearing, moans, sighs, gasps, yelps. Him telling me you're so hot, you're so sexy, so cute, so pretty, so beautiful. Whispering my name in my ear. Sex and fucking and making love over and over. Finishing and then starting again with a word or touch or deliberately misplaced limb. Talking in between. He's from Detroit, he just went home for a visit but is glad to be back in Oregon. He works at the bike shop in town and likes to mountain bike. He has a map of the world taped to the wall at the foot of his bed so he can wake up in the morning and daydream about the places he'd like to visit (I know, don't even, it's real, every word). He had a girlfriend but not anymore. He has had his heart broken but is over it now.
All of a sudden it's 4am.
"I have to leave, you need to get some sleep. "
" No, stay, you can go home in the morning, I'll drive you. Stay with me."
"No, I should go, we've been up all night, you must be exhausted and I have to get up early."
"Well at least let me drive you."
"No, I'll walk it isn't far."
"But it's freezing!"
"It's okay, I need the fresh air."
"Well let me give you something, a hat (he gives me an awesome, high quality gray and black knit beanie that somehow fits my freakishly small head perfectly)."
"Can I have your number? You know, in case you ever come back to Hood River."
"Yes." (though I don't expect him to call, and it doesn't really matter if he does anyway)
And then I float back to the motel, the snow turned to clouds beneath my feet. Skipping along, not even a little bit clumsy on the icy sidewalks. Not feeling the cold or the exhaustion. I indulge myself in a little hop up in the air. I fling my arms up and squeal.
If I hadn't lived it I wouldn't believe how perfect it was. But I did live it and it is real, every word.