Words can be sweetly encouraging or downright dirty, but they are almost always a powerful aphrodisiac.
–Dr. Ruth
Jensen didn’t indicate precisely what time in the afternoon, so at one o’clock—it is “after” noon, after all—I knock on his door, laptop in hand.
The door swings open, and he’s standing there in a t-shirt and jeans. “You’re early,” he says.
“You weren’t specific about what time you wished me to arrive.”
He pauses for a second. “You’re right. I wasn’t.”
“Are you available now?”
He glances into his place and then back at me. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”
I wait for him to step aside and let me in, but instead he grabs a sweater from somewhere next to the door and then he’s shutting his door behind him and yanking the sweater over his head. When he lifts his arms to pull on the garment, I’m given a brief glimpse of defined abdominal muscles. He’s not exactly Michelangelo’s David, but something about seeing the vulnerable swath of skin makes my stomach twist and then drop.
I don’t have time to examine that response.
“Can we go to your place?” he asks.
“Okay.” What’s wrong with his? The fact he never lets me in there makes me want to see it all the more.
He follows me into my side of the duplex and I sit on the loveseat. He sits on the chair to my right. I open my laptop.
“What’s that for?” he asks.
“Note-taking.”
“Note-taking?”
“I don’t want to forget anything and this way you won’t have to repeat yourself.” I open a blank document. “I’m ready when you are.”
He scrubs a hand through his hair and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m not really sure where to start.”
“Why don’t you just start at the beginning and we’ll go from there.”
“The beginning of what?”
“Seduction.”
“Seduction?”
I look up at him from my blank screen. “Are you having difficulties comprehending the English language this morning?”
He shakes his head at me with a small smile. “From anyone else, that would be sarcastic, but from you it’s sincere. I’m sorry. This is just a little weird. And awkward. I’m not sure how I can teach you this stuff by talking about it.”
I know he’s right. I’m going to have to experience these things instead of living vicariously through others. I’m just not sure I can broach that topic quite yet. At least, not without sending him running out the door. Again.
“How do you know when you’re attracted to someone?” I ask.
“That’s…a tough question.” He thinks for a second, rubbing his chin with his fingers. I realize he has nice fingers, long and sensitive-looking, but still somehow masculine. He moves them from his chin to his lap. “I guess there’s the physical response,” he says finally.
I drag my eyes from his fingers to his face. “Do you experience an erection every time you see someone you consider attractive?”
“What?” He looks a bit shocked when his eyes meet mine. “No. I mean, sort of. I mean, not really.”
I sigh. “Can you be more specific?”
He thinks for a few seconds. “I suppose if we’re talking attraction then I would have to admit that yes, I feel aroused almost every time I see someone I’m attracted to. Or if I think about someone I’m attracted to.”
“Okay. That’s the scientific response.” I really shouldn’t have to point out that I am aware of that aspect of it. “I want to know what you feel beyond that.”
“Well, there’s a difference between finding someone attractive and actually liking someone and wanting to be with them for more than just the carnal part.”
“Explain.”
“When emotions are involved, everything is just…more.”
“More what?”
“More exciting. More nerve-wracking. More intense when it’s good, and more painful when it’s bad.”
I consider this for a moment and try to imagine feeling that way about anyone.
I fail.
“Is this helping you at all?” he asks after a moment of silence.
“I’m not sure.”
“You haven’t been typing anything.”
I look at the blank screen in front of me. “I know.”
“So what’s next Dr. Lucy?” he asks.
I consider the information he’s given me and what I already know about developing relationships. “What about kissing?” I ask. I believe that is the first indicator of an evolving emotional connection. The first milestone, if you will.
“Kissing?”
I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Right. Kissing.” He nods and then he’s suddenly very focused on me. “Wait, have you ever been kissed?”
“Let’s just assume that my experience in that area is negligible,” I say.
“Is that a no?”
“It means that my knowledge of kissing is that the exchange of saliva allows lovers to explore the immune system of their partners in order to promote genetic diversity.”
His eyes are locked onto mine. His head shakes slowly back and forth. “I can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.”
“I’ve been kissed.”
“Then why do you need to know about kissing?”
I shrug. “The kissing I’ve experienced, there was no passion. It was more clinical, an experiment to see what it might be like.”
A small smile plays around his mouth. “Was it with another chick?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
I frown at him, but his smile only increases from a trifling upward tilt of his lips into a shameless grin.
“If you must know, I kissed a friend—a boy friend—I met at science camp when I was sixteen.”
“Science camp. That explains why your experience is negligible.” He grins at me.
“Now,” I say sternly. “Back to kissing.”
“Right.” He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips and rubbing his chin. “Passionate kissing,” he says. “Well kissing is important in that it—” he breaks off and shifts on the chair. “Um, I mean, it leads up to…” Another pause, this time longer. “First you have to—” He stops suddenly and sits up straight. “Listen, I can’t do this. If you want to learn about kissing, I’m going to have to show you.”
He moves towards me, taking the laptop away and moving it to the table. And then he’s right next to me and I don’t have time to think about what’s about to happen.
“Really, Jensen.” I think my heart rate tripled in the last five seconds. “I thought we agreed that you don’t want to sleep with me and I have no wish to be a notch on your nearly decimated bedpost.”
“Do you want to learn this stuff or not? And my bedpost is intact, thank you very much.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“But nothing. Consider this an experiment. And kissing is not sex, not even close. We won’t do any more experiments after this. Promise. Unless you beg me. Which you might.”
I can’t help but smile. “That’s a bold statement.”
The light is fairly dim in my living room because it’s cloudy outside and I don’t have any lights on, but he’s close enough that I can see the green in his eyes. My gaze is drawn to his mouth. He does have a nice mouth. It’s almost perfectly heart-shaped with a plump lower lip. It sounds almost feminine, but when it’s combined with his firm jaw and defined cheekbones, and he just looks…kissable. And now that we’re talking about it, I can’t help but imagine what it might be like.
“You’ll show me about…kissing and then we’ll discuss the rest of it?” I ask. I find that I’m inexplicably nervous. My palms are sweating, my heart is thumping and I have my hands tightly clasped in my lap because I’m fairly sure they will shake if I try to use them.
“Yes,” he says.
“Alright then.” I close my eyes and take a deep and slow breath through my nose to try and calm my autonomic nervous system.
A few long seconds later, I’m still sitting there with my eyes closed and I can sense Jensen sitting next to me, but he doesn’t seem to be moving.
I open my eyes. “Well?”
He’s just sitting there, staring at me. “Sorry,” he says. “I got distracted.”
I glance around the empty room. “By what?”
“I’m not sure,” he says. Before I can close my eyes and prepare myself again, his hands are cupping my face and his lips are on mine.