He held the bong between his naked thighs. I loved to watch his dick twitch as I fit my mouth to the blown glass tube. I'd pull the bowl and take a hit and he would pull my mouth up to his. He loved a good shotgun. I wrapped my hand around the glass and pulled it from between his thighs. My knuckles grazed his cock and he flinched. My mouth curled into a slow smile.
"I know what I'd like to wrap my lips around."
I leaned in as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. That's when I knew that I loved him. Unfortunately, I had loved someone else first. So had he. None of that mattered that first night. I took him between my lips and the world fell away. It rained that night. We lay wrapped tight in each other in the back of his old bus. The roof took a good pounding and so did I. But then I cried. I laid in his arms and wept of the thought of losing him. There was nothing we could do.
His body moved over mine and eased my sorrow. His touch was a symphony that drowned out the rain. He brought me over and over. In the morning I left his bus and returned to my world with the promise of next year. It happened. It happened each year for four years. I left my life, he left his, and we met at the music festival.
I waited in our spot the fifth year. I squealed and clapped as his bus pulled in. He kept driving. He wrapped around and parked a little ways down. He wasn't alone. She slid from the cab and grabbed the baby. I sat and watched until he saw me. All he did was shake his head, but I saw it. I saw that it hurt him, ending things that way.
I came back the following year. Even the year after that. He didn't.
Now here I am, waiting for him again. A chance meeting fifteen years later. I was buying concert tickets. He was buying a CD. Same band. He wasn't wearing a ring and mine was long gone. I hear a familiar sound and laugh as the old bus rattles into the parking lot. I felt it again when I saw him, that old spark. The one that still made me blush when I recalled that first night. He walks in and a I smile. I always thought those were our glory days. He smiles back. I was wrong. I think these will be.
This is so sad and sweet and romantic, and if if you didn't like it 100% it's a wonderful vignette and a great mood piece. I like it. I think we all want that 2nd chance meeting with someone special.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your kind words. It's not where I meant to go, but It's where I landed. I, of course, am glad that you liked it. Someday I'll write something that isn't sad. LOL.
ReplyDeleteAnd I got my 2nd chance after 5 years. I was lucky.