Page 96 of Like a Love Story
“We should take those boots off,” I say.
“Go ahead,” he says, smiling slyly.
I move toward his feet and try to pull the boots off unsuccessfully. I pull harder and harder, to no avail. We laugh, and I’m grateful for the laughter.
“Let me help you,” he says, sitting up and yanking the boots off. He throws them onto the floor with a thud. We sit in front of each other for a moment. “Guess we should take the rest off, right?” he says.
“Okay,” I say. A wave of excitement passes through me at the thought of us naked together.
He starts first. He peels his tight ripped jeans off in the blink of an eye, and then his tank top. And finally, with a smile, his underwear. He waves his underwear around in the air and tosses it at me. I duck and laugh.
“Your turn,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say, every part of me thrumming with anticipation.
I can feel my arms shaking as I slowly take off my black jeans and my T-shirt. I pause before taking my underwear off. I search his eyes for the reassurance I need. “Art,” I whisper. I want to tell him I’m scared, but I know he knows that. So I just whisper his name again. I like feeling it on my tongue. “Art.” And then again, more decisively, “Art.”
We lie naked next to each other, and we kiss for what feels like either a split second or an eternity. It’s a kiss that stops time. There is no past or future, just this moment, just this kiss.
Time starts again when he removes his lips from mine and kisses the back of my ears, my neck, my shoulders, my chest. He works his way down. “I want to kiss every part of you,” he says. And he does. When he takes me inside his mouth, it’s almost over.
“Wait, slow down,” I beg him. And then, when he does, I just repeat, “Wow. Wow. Wow.” I must sound like an idiot, but I don’t care. I don’t feel like an idiot. I feel like me.
I pull him back up when I can’t take any more, and I do the same to him. I kiss and lick every inch of skin on his body, tasting the expanse of him, drawing him into me. The moment my lips leave his neck, I miss it already. Then when they leave his chest, I miss that. I want all of him, all at once, all the time.
“I love you,” I whisper, my breath heavy.
“Me too,” he says, laying me on my back and finding his way on top of me.
I turn to the bedside table and grab a condom. I give it to him with a smile and a nod. “Wow,” he says. “Wow, I didn’t think...”
“What?” I ask, mischievous. “You thought I’d remain like a virgin forever?”
He beams. A hand on my cheek, he says softly, “Quien es este niño?Who’s that boy?”
I realize I’m a new person now, the person I’ve been waiting to be. I feel it’s only right to quote Madonna back to him, so I kiss him once more, then whisper, “I’m a young boy with eyes like the desert that dream of you, my true blue.”
His smile radiates love. “True blue,” he repeats.
He tries to open the condom wrapper but fumbles with it. He tries his teeth. I grab it from him and tear it open. I try to put it on him, doing my best to block out why the condom is necessary, trying to forget all those images of death and disease. My hands shake as I place the condom on him. “I think you’re putting it on upside down,” he says, laughing.
“Really?” I turn it over and try it the other way. It finally slides on.
He smiles. I smile. We have a layer of protection between us now. He squeezes some lube onto him, then onto me. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer to me, or deeper into me, because he’s in me now. We thrust and grunt and sweat until we almost fall off the bed.
“I need to catch my breath,” he says. Then, with asmile, he adds, “I think this is the first team sport I like.”
I laugh. “I’m sure your dad would be very proud if you tried out for the varsity sex team.”
This makes him laugh. “Like an athlete,” he jokes. Then he whispers tenderly, “Reza, are you doing this because you want to, or because you think it’ll make me stay?”
I kiss his neck, tasting his salty sweat. I lick the skin behind his earlobe, a hidden piece of him that feels all mine. “Maybe I thought about that,” I say. “But that’s not why I changed my mind. Whether you stay here or go west, I needed to do this. You had to be my first.”
He nods, then shakes his head. “Hey, why are we talking so much? Aren’t we supposed to be having mad, hot, passionate sexual intercourse right now?”
“You started talking!” I laugh.
“Me?” he asks, a roguish grin across his face. “You’re the one inventing new school sports.”
