Perspective: His

Hey readers! I haven't written in a while, but I've been wanting to try my hand at a perspective story. I've seen a few other writers do it and I love reading them. So after reading this one, make sure you check out Perspective: Hers.

As always, feedback and comments are welcome. Thanks for reading!!

*****

This was not what I wanted to be doing. Being the young man that I am, sitting amongst my grandmother and all her friends on a perfectly good Friday night was not what I wanted to be doing. Normally, I would have bowed out, but it was the first Valentine's Day since my grandfather died and that had been the argument that won my attendance to this couples dinner. My grandmother wanted to go very badly and she thought it'd be cute if her grandson took her.

Apparently the Valentine's Day dinner was a church tradition and everyone that attended my grandmother's church showed up. The dining hall was decked out in red and pink streamers, and littered with foil hearts and fake rose petals. My eyes wondered elsewhere and I noted all the awkward teen couples trying to dance and the middle aged families, mothers and fathers struggling to calm the results of their past Valentine's Days. It was a bit amusing to watch everyone meander about, desperately trying to force the romance that obviously wasn't there.

My grandmother, on the other hand, wasn't encountering any trouble while trying to have fun. On the arm of her newly favorited grandson, everything was just peachy. The seventy-three year old woman was having the time of her life reminiscing on past holidays with my grandfather and sharing all my baby stories with her elderly friends. I had wanted to go to a party tonight and maybe find some sweet little honey to be my valentine, but I was content after a while. It was good to see my grandmother laugh and smile again.

The night went on and the food was served. I wasn't very impressed with the lasagna, but the heart shaped brownies they gave us for dessert were delicious. I had just retrieved my third brownie from the dessert table when a man walked up to the podium sitting on the stage near the front of the hall.

"My, what a turn out we've had this year!" the man on stage exclaimed. "Firstly, I'd like to thank you all for coming. Valentine's Day is singled out from the rest of the year as a day where we admire and remember the loves we have shared throughout our lives. I think it's a beautiful thing to see all of you here sharing with one another and celebrating together."

I figured out that he was the minister for the church after a while. There was something about his love focused, huggy-feely tone of voice that gave it away. He almost made the holiday sound reputable. It was probably the first time since I was in middle school that I thought of the holiday as more than an excuse to have sex. I laughed to myself. No wonder this guy's congregation is so big, he's very convincing.

A wave of applause snapped me out of my thinking and I watched the man on the podium surrender his microphone to a younger couple. Then it hit me, they were going to sing. This had just gotten worse in my opinion. There's nothing sappier or cornier that putting feelings to song. I watched the couple holding hands and look into each other's eyes as they shared why this song meant to so much to them and their relationship. I couldn't tell if it was from the third brownie or this couple, but I was feeling a little ick.

I had turned to toss the rest of the brownie that was in my hand away when a white sweater sitting across the room caught my eye. It was tight and clung to the brunette that was wearing it. The buttons held to their designated loops while the surrounding fabric stretched, compensating for the bust that lie beneath. Below the sweater was a black pencil skirt that outlined the hips, butt, and legs of the woman I instantly longed for. I watched the legs walk up to the stage area and sit behind a piano. Her hands gracefully fell to the keys and produced the most angelic sound I've ever heard. Suddenly, the idea of a song wasn't so bad.

Before this got out of hand, I ran back to the table and leaned in to interrogate my grandmother. I hadn't lived in the same town as my grandmother in ages and I'd never attended church or any church functions. I had an instant need for additional information. "Nan? You see that girl on the piano?" She nodded, still watching the couple sing their hearts out. "Tell me about her."

My grandmother seemed entranced by the song, but she tore herself away to look into the lustful eyes of her grandson. "That's Maxine, but everybody around here calls her Max."

I smiled and looked back up at my soon-to-be beauty still stroking the keys. "What else do you know about her, Nan?"

"Well, let's see," my grandmother pursed her lips and I could tell she was thinking. "I'm pretty sure she's twenty-one. She's a manager at a shoe store in the next town over and she gives piano lessons on the weekends."

"Nan!" I glared back at my grandmother. She was old, sure, but she had to know what was going on. The grin on her face was betraying her.

"And she's single," she smirked back at me. My grandmother laughed a bit and joined in with the applause as the whole dining hall clapped, wishing the couple who had now stopped singing, well done.

I sunk back in my chair and watched Maxine. She waited contently as the next performer made their way to the stage. Even from where I was standing, I could see how soft and inviting her hair would be for my fingers. My hands itched in my pockets wanting to tangle them within her chestnut colored waves. It was in a bun for now, but that was fine because I would very much enjoy helping her dissemble it. I have a thing for hair.

I watched her porcelain legs as they gracefully lay beneath the piano. Her right calf flexed every time she peddled the suspended notes and I was smitten. To have those legs beneath my fingertips, beneath my lips, would be amazing. I'd go slow with her and take the time to kiss every inch of her, dragging my lips along her smooth skin. Ugh, and to think of how those legs would look wrapped around my waist. I have a thing for legs.

There seemed to be and endless amount of performers and I was content to sit back and watch Max accompany each and every one of them. She was the same for each one, too. Every person that graced that stage got her undivided attention. She had a stack of music in front of her, but it went ignored. Her dark green eyes were in constant contact with her performer and she followed their every notion. What a pleasure it would be to have those eyes look up at me and grant me the same undivided attention. I guess I have a thing for eyes, too.

The night grew older and they eventually ran out of performers. Everyone was having a wonderful time socializing and catching up, but there were little people there past nine. I snuck out to drive my grandmother home, but raced back to the church in hopes of catching Max. I nearly ran back into the dining hall and there she was, up on the piano, fiddling with the keys once more. It looked like most everyone had left, but by some great spurt of luck, she had stayed.

Slowly I walked up to the piano, careful not to scare her. I hadn't a clue what her fingers were doing to the ivory beneath them, but I knew that I loved it. The piece she was playing was slow and terribly romantic. I had already begun imagining curling her into me while we lay together in bed, using the song she was playing as inspiration. What had gotten into me? For some odd reason this lady had captivated me in a way no other woman has ever managed, and she didn't even know.

I stood at the edge of the stage and barely whispered, "Whatcha playing?"

I felt like a goof, but she didn't seem to notice. Without any hesitation or hiccups in her playing she responded, "Nocturne in F sharp major. It's Chopin."

"It's nearly as beautiful as you." I smiled as her fingers fumbled for half a second and her eyes opened wide in astonishment. I was pleased.

I could see her flip through a variety of expressions just beneath the surface. Her brow scrunched together but would immediately stretch out while her sweet lips pursed. She chewed in the side of her cheek for a bit and I could tell she was thinking everything through. "I don't believe we've met," she finally spoke.

"And yet, I'm fascinated with you," I sighed, filled with admiration for her. She immediately stopped playing and turned on the bench to look at me. I decided to try and charm her, so I made a show of extending my hand towards her and bending at the knee, much like you would see the actors do in the historical movies when they approached royalty. "My name, your highness, is Geoff, and what might I call you?"

The corners of her mouth turned upwards in a helpless smile. "You may call me Max, for my name is Maxine." She played right along and set her right hand in the palm of my left.

Our little game continued and just as they do in the movies, I held her fingers and brought them to my mouth for a kiss. "My fair Max, what marvelous talent you have. You have won my heart entirely at the grace of these magnificent fingers."

"Oh really?" she giggled back at me. "Such a strange thing to love my fingers. Are you quite sure you love them?"

"Don't you already know, your highness? Surely you can feel my love for you," I gave her a shocked look of mock hurt and bent a knee on the small stage so that I may pull her hand over my heart. Although charming on the surface, my heart was pounding beneath my chest, and her touch didn't help much. I had guided her wrist to my chest but it didn't take her long to start moving on her own volition. She traced tiny figure eights with her index finger and each loop made my temperature rise.

She faked a look of concern. "Whatever should we do, my lord? I fear your poor heart cannot take much more."

"Tis but one thing to do, my lady," I stepped up the rest of the way on the stage. "You must continue playing until I am affected no longer."

She grinned in a way that told me she knew exactly what she was thinking. I half expected her to shoo me away, but she turned towards the keys and began playing again. I could tell that Max was a smart lady and she very much enjoyed having my attention. I watched for a moment, breathless at the view from just above her shoulders. Her hands really were intoxicating.

"Sit with me," she instructed, completely breaking character. Without skipping a beat, she scooted to the right side of the keys and I did what I was told, trying not to think too much about her thigh being pressed against mine on the short piano bench.

"I don't think I could ever put into words how exquisite your playing is," I breathed, watching from the closest view possible. "I feel very privileged sitting up here with you."

She laughed openly and nudged me, "Don't be silly. I'm not that great." She began playing a different song now, lightening the mood. It was obvious that we were the only ones here by now and her song lingered into the hall without interruption. "Although, I haven't ever permitted anyone to sit next to me while playing before, so I guess that would be a privilege."

"So why am I up here then?" I was hoping to hear something about how cute I looked or how sweet it was of me to come here with my grandmother. Max had drawn me in so entirely and I wanted desperately for her to feel the same about me.

"Did you ever imagine something completely farfetched, but still want it to happen?"

"I know the feeling." I thought back to all the mini visions I had about her hair, legs, and eyes while she was playing earlier that night.

"Well, your grandmother talks about you often and always fondly. She and I aren't super close or anything, but word gets around and I always thought you sounded nice." Max was grinning but she was still focused on her playing for the most part.

"Oh great, what did you hear?" I began to worry. Sometimes word of mouth it nice, but most of the time it is dangerous. I was also afraid about that my grandmother had been sharing about me and how much of it was actually true.

"It's silly, but when I found out you were coming I realized that you and I were going to be the only single people here." A blush started to creep along the top of her cheeks and I fought the urge to kiss her right then and there. "My imagination got carried away and I toyed with the idea of us being valentines. Weird right? I mean, I didn't even know you, what you looked like, or even if you'd be interested in someone like me."

I ran a finger from her knee up to the middle of her thigh and watched her shudder beneath my touch. "Interested really isn't the right word. It's more like infatuated." I hadn't realized my voice was deeper, but I'm sure she did. The moments passed as my hand found a resting place along her leg. Her playing was getting worse and I admit to being pleased that I could distract her so. "I think being valentines is a wonderful idea."

She stopped playing altogether and looked down at my hand that was resting on her thigh. A soft little moan left her lips and I couldn't take it anymore. The hand that was on her thigh rose to grab chin and guide her face towards mine while my other arm wrapped around her waist. I stopped with her lips inches from mine and looked into those gorgeous eyes.

"What's wrong?" she panicked. She sounded frantic and scared with what might have stopped me. "You don't want to kiss me?"

I had doubted it before, but this beautiful creature wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. I saw the tears forming in the corners of her eyes and my heart broke for her. As gently and tenderly as I could, I kissed her. Max melted against me, snaking her arms around my neck and opening her mouth for my probing tongue. The kiss was slow but her reaction to me came about like a freight train. I was swallowing her moans and could feel her nipples softly poking me in the chest.

I surfaced for air and looked into her eyes once more. The tint of her lips had darkened with her arousal and her cheeky smile made my stomach do flips. "I want to kiss you more, but not here." Her hand rose to my face and she traced the right side of my jaw with the back of her finger. "Would you mind taking me home?"

Who was I to deny the young lady such a heartfelt request? I was watching her lock up the church and holding her hand on the way to her car before I knew it. The fifteen minute drive was silent, but my mind was racing. Did she just was to kiss some more? She was a pretty fantastic kisser and I'd be content with that, but I wondered what she had in store.

She parked the car and ushered me into her apartment. I tried really hard not to think about anything overly sexual. I wanted to be a gentleman and a raging erection would be sure to ruin that image. She patted a seat on the couch and I sat while she moved about creating her desired ambiance. It was a small apartment with the usual signs of being broke and single. All of the furniture was used and none of it matched, but Max must've had a gift for decorating because it looked very welcoming and comfortable.

She meandered over to her stereo, talking while she turned on her tunes, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

I smiled, watching her run the back of her foot up and down the opposing calf. "I'm good, but thanks."

Max spun around and gave me a sultry look, raising one eye brow seductively. Lazily she walked over to the couch I was on and sat on the coffee table in front of me, our knees touching. "I want to get the awkward bit out of the way," she stated, her expression turning a bit more serious but never losing its appeal.

I sighed, not knowing what awkward stuff she was talking about, "Ok, whatever makes you more comfortable."

Max gave a broad smile and rested her hand on my knee. "One night stands aren't my thing. If you don't intend on cuddling deep into the night and waking up next to me, then this can't happen."

I was slightly shocked that she just dove into this conversation, but pleased as hell that she was basically inviting me to spend the night. I couldn't help but look like a goof. "That won't be an issue," I assured.

"And if you can make me cum, you'll be guaranteed an invitation back." She gave an awkward blush, taking her hand off my knee to thread her fingers together in her lap. "I just can't be another fuck toy. I hope you understand."

"A what?" I was kind of appalled. How any douche could be so stupid not to please this sweetie pie bumping knees with me was a mystery. "Maxine, I would never," I trailed off trying not to think of her lying next to some prick, used. I shook my head trying to rid that disgusted feeling. "You can't say things like that. Now come here and let me hold you."

Her apprehensive look disappeared as I took her hands and pulled her to my lap. Her legs swung to my left and I pushed her head to rest on my shoulder. I sighed, very much enjoying the contact with her while lacing one arm around her back to link with the other laying across her lap. One of her hands found its way to my neck and began to massage the nape of my neck while the other hand rested on my chest and continued with the figure eight motions that she'd done earlier. I doubted any feeling could top this amazing woman in my lap, stroking my chest and making me feel so manly.

"You're not weirded out by this?" she questioned with a small, unsure voice. "I mean, we've barely known each other for an hour."

"Sweetheart, look at how we fit together. You fit perfectly with me and I know it has to feel as good for you as it does for me." I leaned down and nuzzled my nose into her hair, kissing her forehead as my motions ended. "I consider myself lucky to have found this amazing chemistry so fast. Others are not as fortunate." I was being honest. She did feel amazing and the only thing I had thought since the moment I saw her lingering at the piano after the dinner had ended was how lucky I was.

"It does feel pretty good. I've never felt this comfortable this quickly with anyone." She smiled into my chest and the thought of me being special, better than those other fools she'd been with, made my being rush with pride.

We sat like that for what seemed like ages, not kissing or being overly lovey, just being intimate. I began stroking her back lightly and she turned into me more, wiggling on my lap as my fingers ran across her spine. Her little moans were stirring some life in me and I remembered everything I wanted to do to her. I kissed her head again, whispering, "Can I take your hair down?"

Her only reply was a soft hum of approval as she sunk impossibly deeper within my shoulder. I'd never actually done this before, but I remember being intoxicated with the idea and I knew I had to try. My fingers fumbled within her hair and tried my best not to hurt her. I placed each pin I'd retrieved into her hand and before long I was fingering through the somewhat tangled locks. I breathed in the scent of what smelt like almonds until she got up.

Max walked across the room, shaking her hair as she went to the bathroom and put the pins away. That stupid smile I'd been helpless to avoid was slapped across my face once again as she walked back in. She had lost the cardigan and was waltzing towards me as a vision in a pencil skirt, black tank top, and some devilishly wild hair that fell past her shoulders.

Now, Maxine was a kind of beautiful that doesn't receive much credit from the world today. She was the kind of girl you brought home to meet your mom. The kind of girl you could imagine starting a family with, but at the same time a total sex kitten. As she bit her bottom lip and swayed towards me, taking a place between my knees, I was hopelessly attracted. She has this hourglass figure that gave way to some of the most invitingly soft curves I've ever seen. I was dying to touch. Her simple cotton tank top clung to her in all the best ways and that silly little skirt was a whole other temptation.