Epiphany...

He used the driver's seat as a slip-and-slide to gently lower himself into the car, the tan, leather seats gently hugging his derriere the entire way down. I watched him with interest.

He, upon 'landing,' fastened his safety belt immediately, turned to me, smiling briefly, and started the car. We pulled deftly out of the garage, though I remember little else about the trip. His laugh and his conversation were so engaging that everything else became a blur. Sometime, during a conversation about a novel so obscure I though I had once made it up, we arrived at a plain building that looked more like a house than a diner, and pulled into a parking spot.

David extracted the keys from the ignition with a 'pop,' deftly moving around the car to open my door. I blushed as he extended his hand to me as he pulled the door open. I casually accepted the invitation and put my hand in his, stepping, cat-like, from the car.

He stopped, then, and watched me move – the ultimate compliment. He pulled my hand once again to his lips and kissed my palm, melting my remaining defenses, though failing to quiet my mind.

At once I was surprised and delighted by what I found inside of the Lone Ridge Café. While sparsely furnished, the existing décor was lightly worn and appeared well-loved. The chairs were varying, bold colors made of wood that had been painted and then minimally upholstered. The tables 'matched' the chairs – or, at least some of them did. The barista/waitress/chef stood behind the counter, alphabetizing the tea selection. We seated ourselves at a corner table nestled squarely behind a half-wall.

The waitress soon meandered by our table and took our order. We hardly noticed her return with our drinks. David's voice was light and vibrant and spoke of that in which he believed. I couldn't escape his charm, his eyes, his life – nor did I want to. When I looked at him, I didn't see my stale life – the life I had accepted, settled for, sold out to. Instead, I saw myself only years before, when I was passionate, willful, interested, dynamic... alive. Now, my heart was largely dead, and death is what I felt each day – the slow, cold decay of mortality, not the warm vigor of life. It felt good to feel my heart beat in my chest, to feel the slow, gentle heat that was overcoming my body, to feel David's gaze upon me, interested in what I had to say.

David began, "Regan... would you, maybe, want to come back to my place with me?"

I smiled as I fumbled for words, unsure of myself and my failing scruples.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a clean, modest-looking apartment complex where David led me to his door. I followed quietly, as if being covert, however conspicuous my face may have been.

We arrived at a door identical to those around it, save the number on the side: 177. Once opened, however, I realized that was where the similarities ended. The décor was so eclectic that attempting to 'label' it would have been in vain. The carpeting was the standard fare – safe, neutral, well-maintained, while the table and chairs in the modest dining room were the same brightly-colored novelties as in the coffee house. The furniture was plush, refined and featured a stately deep-set couch and matching over-stuffed chair. The walls were covered in original, abstract paintings. "Wow," was all I could muster.

"That bad, huh?" David smiled.

"No... that good. It's very, preciselyyou."

"I'd like to think so," came David's smiling reply.

"I'd like to kiss you," I replied, gazing at him fondly.

He blushed, closing and locking the door firmly behind him. He tossed his keys into a catch-all by the door and moved toward me. "Honestly, I'd like to do more than kiss you, if you'd have me."

I paused, my mind finally quiet. Looking directly into his eyes, I answered, "Unequivocally, yes."

He stepped slowly forward and enveloped me in his embrace. I watched him search my face, and only as his lips approached mine did my eyes flutter shut. I felt his lips drinking softly from my mouth. His kiss was slow and soft against my lips and I carefully probed his mouth with my tongue, seeking access. He ceded immediately and ran his fingers through my hair as our lips embraced.

He cupped my face in his hand and drew me closer, yet, to his body. I could feel his warm and alive against me. I could feel the bulge of his erection against my center, as he pushed against me softly.

I ran my fingers through his short hair, and he shivered as I caressed the soft skin of his neck with just my fingertips. Finally my hands found his back and I slowly caressed him there. I run my fingers tentatively underneath his shirt, feeling his skin against mine. I sighed at the touch, and he gazed into my eyes.

"Shall we go to the bedroom?" he asked.

The question – at once unavoidable and surprising – left me speechless, and I nodded my consent.

While I vaguely remember arriving in his bedroom, the details become blurred after that. I remember only him – his touch, his words, his embrace, his most intimate secrets.

I kissed his neck while he worked at the buttons on his shirt. After they were undone, I slid the thin cloth off his shoulders and exposed his thick, smooth chest. I ran my fingers along his chest, luxuriating in the feel of his skin against mine. I slipped my shirt off, and moved back into his caress. Our bodies touched – bare skin to bare skin – and, the sensation as overwhelming. A warmth filled my body and stole my breath. I wanted more.

As I worked at undoing David's belt and zipper, he kissed my neck, and ran a fingertip gently over my nipple. "Oh!" I exclaimed at the sensation.

"Do you like that?" he purred into my ear.

"Mmm," was all I could articulate in response as his lips captured my nipple in his mouth.

He struggled momentarily with the zipper on my pants before sliding them over my thighs, and allowing them to pool at my feet. He then slid his own pants down his long, muscular legs and stepped out of them.

I met him move-for-move, and he guided me to the bed. I felt the warm curve of his body atop mine as soon as I was on the smooth sheets. His hands were everywhere at once as I searched for his lips with mine. We met in a passionate kiss, and I felt the reaction it had on his body, his long, full erection spasming against my thigh.

I wrapped my arms around him, teasing his caress with my long, slow kisses. I laced my fingers under the elastic of his boxers, and whispered into his ear, softly, "I want to feelall of you against me." I kissed his ear, then continued, "I want to feel you against me, and inside of me...."

He drew in a deep breath as he pulled back slightly from our embrace. His soft hazel eyes were misty and wanting. His entire body protested against what he was about to say. "Are you sure this is what you want? We can always stop...."

I gazed at him, and countered, "Could you stop, right now? I'll be honest with you... I don't think I could. I may stop breathing if you stop." I raised off of the bed so that I could kiss his chest as I said, "Yes, I want this... I want you."

His entire body sighed as he slid his boxers off, watching me watch him. My eyes devoured the scene as he slid his boxers slowly over his hips, exposing his ample erection. He was just long enough to be called "long," and thick enough that he was "quite thick" by anyone's standards. I met his gaze and pulled him to me on the bed.

We kissed as he teased me with his thick member, pushing against my thigh, inching ever-so-closely to my still-panty-clad center. I adjusted myself under him enough to push my panties down my body, and over my toes. We lay with our bodies inseparably close – only a nuance between that moment and penetration. I could feel his eager erection pushing against my thigh.

He kissed me one last time, then pushed my hair away from my ear and whispered, "I'm going to make love to you." In the same instant, he closed that gap and pushed deep into my body, tugging at the walls of my center, fighting for room. I gasped and clung to his body, moving my hips against his size.

I threw my head back in pleasure as he nibbled at my neck, fiercely pushing against my body. I felt him in every part of me. Not only was he endowed, and invaded my body physically, but his emotional warmth, his sincerity seemed to seep into every pore of my being as we did just what he promised – made love.

I had participated in sex from time to time with my husband, but we had never truly made love. Not once. Not in several years had we managed to connect on the level that David and I had connected in an evening. I wanted nothing more than to forget everything I was leaving behind – abandoning, really – to be there, in that moment. And, with one caress from David's tender hands, I did.

All that existed in the entire world was what was happening in David's bedroom. All that existed was the love we made. I felt tears streaming down my face as he stroked himself in and out of my body. I had opened to him, and he had made me so wet, that when I watched him pull almost completely out and then push back inside of me, I could see his thick erection gleaming with our juices. The thought drove me higher as I pushed fervently against David's body. I could feel him growing closer and closer as we pushed and panted against one another.

I didn't mean for words to come, but they spilled out as I thrust against him, "I want to cum with you."

"Yes. I'm close," he nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, then open again.

"Yes," I nodded. I choked the words through panting breathes as I felt orgasm begin to take me. "I'm cumming," I panted as I clutched at David's body.

As a soft yelp escaped my mouth, I felt his body spasm against me as his face contorted in pleasure. I felt orgasm wrack his body, and felt as he sprayed the inside of my body with his seed. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, then gazed at me warmly, collapsing against me. He carefully rolled off of me positioned himself inches away from me, holding me close to his body.

His gaze became intense and he cupped my face in his hands. I could feel his pulse in his fingertips as he kissed me softly. "Regan..." he breathed into our kiss, and I began to once again drown in his arms.

"David," I affirmed as we placed soft, passionate kisses on one another's lips. "David," I murmured softly, again. His name had become my anthem. "Oh, David," I pronounced between sweet kisses. My arms instinctively pulled him close to me. I felt something very foreign inside of me "click" at that moment. I was exactly where I wanted to be. I felt exactly what I had always wanted to feel. I couldn't define it, exactly, couldn't put it to words.

I sighed heavily through our kiss and pulled David yet closer to my body, to me. I slowed our kisses and looked into his eyes, still misty with passion. "David," I repeated. "I...."

Before I could finish my sentence, David gently put his finger to my lips, whispering softly, "Shhh." He looked at me, knowingly, and continued, " I know you're probably worried about a hundred things, right now, but... just be here with me."

I nodded fervently as we made love through long, tender kisses. Finally, he asked, in one word, the most important question I'd been asked in years.

"Stay?" he asked.

There were no demands in his voice, no promises I had to keep if I said, 'Yes.' Just an open and honest plea from his heart.

"Stay?" he offered, once more, his lips a breath from mine.

"Do you know what that would mean?" I asked, confused.

"Yes. Yes, I know. But, Regan – stay? Please."

I just nodded my head as he kissed me deeply. I was exactly where I wanted to be.