It’s been some time since we’ve seen each other and I feel my anticipation growing the closer we get to the bar. A familiar heat grows between my legs, my panties slick with excitement.
We walk inside, the sounds of happy voices amplified by drink and music fill my ears. We find a table in the corner and wait for them to arrive. A few minutes later the door clangs open and in they stroll. “God they are beautiful”, I think to myself as we stand to exchange hugs.
The last 8 months fades away as conversation flows between a knife through soft butter. It has always been this way, this comfortable and relaxed interaction, people who were once strangers that became close friends.
I feel the familiar pull of nicotine, demanding entry into my bloodstream and excuse myself for a smoke. A few minutes later he follows, my lighter extended towards his outstretched hand. I lean my back against the piece of plywood serving for a wall and in moments he’s on me, his lips seeking mine. His tongue darts into my mouth, and his body presses close.
It’s more than a kiss. It’s an exchange of electricity, a current from lips to toes pouring into the ground beneath our feet.
We ash our cigarettes, lit sticks that have hung uselessly between fingers and head back inside. Our conversation picks up once more and our laughter mingles all around us. A song comes on, the kind you can’t resist tapping your feet too and moving your hips, and so we do. Pushing our chairs away and moving on to the empty dance floor, the four of us moving our bodies to the beat as shots flow through our veins.
Amid smiles and sweat beaded foreheads we make our way back to our table and soon my boyfriend and his girlfriend excuse themselves, heading outside into the crisp night air. My hands find his jean clad legs, squeezing his thighs as he leans in for a kiss.
My heart races as his lips meet mine while my brain wanders to outside the bar, wondering if our partners are doing the same. I find myself growing more turned on by the second, visions of my guy pushing his girl up against the wall, his strong hands snaked in her silky hair. I imagine his lips, so full and soft crushing her delicate ones beneath his as he leans his hard and muscular body into her.
I am snapped back from my fantasy to the sound of the door opening, the four of us reunited once more.
The hours pass like this through the night, me kissing him, him kissing her, my guys hands caressing my upper thigh. We exchange our energy seamlessly with one another, this odd strange mix of friendship and lust that creates dynamite.
The hour grows late and reluctantly we begin our goodbyes. Hugs and kisses are exchanged, promises to see each other again soon declared.
My guy and I drive home in happy silence, our fingers entwined. I glance at him, his face bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight and feel my heart expand once more. “I love you”, I whisper, my voice soft and pure, my emotions raw and pouring forth.
I lean my head back onto the seat and close my eyes. This, I think, is why we swing. Not because of the need for others but the need for one another and the enhancement it brings.
Tonight we will lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms and release our desires and wants in a stream of consciousness not matched by any drug. Our bodies and minds will connect like puzzle pieces, till we fill the spaces inbetween with release.
I put the window down and let the cool night air drift onto my face, whipping my hair around, the radio dial turning in my hand. A song comes on and I begin to sing, “Swing, swing, swing on a summers day….” how appropriate I say to myself, how appropriate indeed.