“There’s a song, reminds me of you,” I said. Melissa had just come in from work and was still in her coat and scarf. I was sitting on the bed downstairs playing my guitar after a full day of busking.
“What is it? You’ve already told me about ‘Pissing in a River.’”
“It’s the Jam, ‘Tales From the Riverbank.’” I sang, “‘This is a tale from the water meadows / trying to spread some hope into your heart.’ You smell good,” I said, as Melissa sat next to me.
“Why does it remind you of me?” she asked.
I continued singing, “‘True it’s a dream mixed with nostalgia, / but it’s a dream that I’ll always hang onto, that I always run to. / Won’t you join me by the riverbank?’”
“That reminds you of me?”
“I run to you like water runs downhill.”
“I see we’re feeling dead romantic today.” She lay back on the bed, her coat flapping open to reveal her black V-neck jumper and the white collar of her T-shirt. I bunged myself down beside her. She pulled me on top of her and wrapped her arms around my waist. I sighed with contentment and buried my face in her shoulder. When I kissed her neck, I heard her take in her breath sharply.
She grabbed my head, the yellow-and-red, studded punk bracelet flashing on her wrist, looked intently into my eyes, and kissed me hard on the mouth. I helped her pull off her coat, and she threw her black, white, and gray scarf on the floor. As she rolled on top of me, I slipped one hand beneath her jumper and T-shirt and felt her cool, soft skin. We snogged for hours, only taking breaks to go to the loo. I felt as though I’d managed to let go of the knowledge of evil and sneak back into the elusive Garden of Eden.
I came back from the bog and noticed it was nearly midnight. Melissa was lying on the bed, her hair seductively disheveled, one hand resting on her stomach and the other behind her head. She smiled at me then sat up and pulled off her jumper, making her thick hair stick up. She was wearing a white Jam T-shirt that read “Down In The Tube Station At Midnight.”
I curled up next to her with my head on her shoulder. “How’d you get to be so great?”
“That is not a serious question.”
“It is. Who were you when you were growing up?”
“I was just a regular person. I don’t know why you think I’m anyone special.”
I looked at her upraised brows. “You know you are. You must know.”
“Oh, love.” She looked at me kindly. “You just wanna shag me.”
“What?” I sputtered.
“You’re like all the rest,” Melissa teased, putting her arms around me.
“Well, you’re very shaggable.”
“Still?”
“Mm-hmm. Very. Always.” She looked sad when I said that. “Hey,” I said, sensing her intensity, “you don’t have anything to prove.”
“I know,” she said.
I slid my hands underneath her T-shirt and felt her shoulder blades. I was a ship slipping into the water, navigating by the stars. “I feel very protective of you.”
“I know.” Melissa stroked my hair. “Come here, love.” She pulled me closer. “Make love to me,” she whispered, biting softly on my earlobe.
“Are you sure?” I asked in alarm. I’d been waiting so long for this moment. I took a deep breath and tried not to panic. “You know you can tell me to stop if you want me to, right?”
“Yeah, I do. Do you know you can tell me if this is something you don’t want to do right now? I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It just came out. There’s no pressure. I just—” She looked at me with a serious expression. “I ache for you. That sounds really daft, but I do. Tonight. While we were kissing. I truly ache for you.”
Ever since I’d met Melissa, my whole being had been saying, God, you can keep all the other women. I only want this one. If you’ll let me be with her forever, I’ll never ask to be with anyone else. I know eternity is a long time, but I felt I’d measured it with my heart. All my life, I’d been measuring and waiting. All this time, I’d weighed Melissa in my soul. She was the person I thought I’d only meet after I was dead and in some other, better life. I kissed her and laid my hand gently on her stomach. When I touched her breast, she gasped, “Oh, love,” and held me tighter. I lifted up her Jam T-shirt and put my mouth on one of her nipples. She tasted so good and felt so amazing against my tongue. I got lost in kissing her breasts, carried away by her sounds and her breathing.
I brought my mouth back up to hers, one hand beneath her head, the other caressing her breasts. Then I ran my hand down the length of her body and rested it on the crotch of her faded black trousers. She groaned and moved against me. Listening to her gave me a sharp pleasure. I stroked her between her legs, feeling her grow wetter through the denim. I rested my hand on the button fly of her jeans and whispered, “Are you sure it’s alright?”
“Yes.” She kissed me hard.
“Oh my God,” I whispered with her lips still on mine, “I love you so much.” It felt as intense as the release of orgasm to finally be able to say that to her. Slowly I unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her body. Then I sat her up and took off her T-shirt. I’d thought a lot about how I wanted to make love to her the first time. I wanted to make sure she stayed connected to me and didn’t let her mind drift off into scary places. I wanted to take my time. I didn’t know how she liked to be touched, but I wanted to be very gentle unless she signaled that she needed something else. I kissed her stomach and ran my tongue along the edges of her knickers. I touched her with my fingers through the material, making sure she was really ready before finally taking them off.
“Take off your clothes too,” Melissa said hoarsely.
“I feel incredibly connected to you,” I murmured. “Your skin is so soft.” I kissed her shoulder. When I finally felt her clitoris with my finger, I gasped at the intensity of it. It was like putting my finger in an electric socket, only in a good way.
“Oh God,” Melissa groaned, “I’m so sensitive to your touch.” I moved lower. Gently, I put my mouth on her. “Oh, honey, you feel so good. Oh, God.” She moaned with each caress, her clitoris under my tongue like a pebble. I knew that I would always feel its imprint there. I stroked her in a circular motion, enfolding her as her sounds became louder and more urgent. I thought I would die from pleasure when she said my name. Her hands gripped my hair.
“Oh, sweetie,” Melissa said, “what are you doing to me?” She reached for my hands and squeezed them tight. I pressed myself into her, feeling her orgasm. I caressed her as she continued to come, making louder, higher-pitched sounds. I stayed where I was, kissing her, until she tugged on my head to make me stop. “Mm, love,” she gasped, hugging me, “oh my God. I didn’t know I could feel like that. I didn’t know I could ever feel safe enough to feel like that. God, I can’t move.”
“You don’t have to move. You don’t have to do anything. I’m glad I made you feel safe.” I touched then gently kissed her face. “I will never let you go.”
“Was I alright?”
“You don’t need to ask me that.”
“But I never—” She blushed. “I was never so—vocal before. Now I’ve said it, I feel a right prat.”
“You never have to be embarrassed in front of me. God,” I said, “I am so in love with you. I never would have let this happen if I wasn’t. You must know that.” Melissa started to cry and nestled her face in my neck. I rubbed her back soothingly. “I love the way you sound. I love everything about you.” I could feel my eyes heavy with love when I looked at her. “You’re so sweet when you come. Being intimate with you is so—intimate.”
“I want to make love to you,” Melissa said, drying her eyes with her fingers.
“Not now, baby.” I kissed her, running my fingers through her lustrous hair. “I just want to hold you and make you feel warm and safe.” As Melissa started to protest, I said, “You’ve been on edge for weeks. Let me do this one thing right.” I stroked her hair. “Please let me hold you until you fall asleep. It would make me very happy.” I pulled the blankets over her. She rested her hand gently on my face and closed her eyes. “My sweet, sweet baby,” I said.