Meeting Ryan Daley

The bartender floated by and she ordered a round for her table. John kicked the small talk up a notch, and rather than succumbing to his well-rehearsed charms, Anya held her own, trading barbs and witticisms as fast he sent them. It was entertaining to watch, and it looked like for the first time John was out of his depth. The strange thing was, even though they were doing the talking, I was the one feeling like the meteor pulled out of my usual orbit, enveloped by a force of attraction that was subtle, yet strong enough that I caught myself actually leaning in towards her. The bartender arrived with her libations, and as she reached for them she made steady eye-contact with me. There was an other-worldliness feeling as I looked into her eyes beyond the lens of her glasses. Her irises were an indistinguishable mix of blue, green, and gray, and I could swear there were sparkling flecks of gold mixed in. Again, I felt the sensation of floating towards her even though, and I can't be certain, I didn't move. As I played that moment back (repeatedly I might add) in my head over the next few days, it reminded me of a movie scene where the character centered on the screen is still, and the background zooms in around them.

John, never one to miss an opportunity to be shocking, broke the reverie by announcing all too loudly, "So, I just want to know, is my boy Ryan here going to get laid tonight? Because he could really use it right now." My jaw hit the floor as I leveled him with looks of shock, anger, and mortification. I couldn't bring myself to look at Anya. If this didn't drive her away, I don't know what would have. We all stand silent in the awkwardness of the moment, but not for long. Her eyes, still on me, narrow ever so slightly. I feel her gravitational field pull even stronger as she pronounced, "While I'm not opposed to a mind-blowing experience without strings attached, I haven't decided if there's a connection here. I guess there's only one way to find out."

And just like that she leaned up and kissed me. And just like that I realized it's not a black hole, but a brilliant star that's pulled me into it's vast yet intentionally focused energy. It was the perfect first kiss too: just the right amount of pressure and pull, her moist lips slightly parted, her intoxicating scent adding to the light-headedness and waves of pleasure that caused me to lose touch with reality at that moment. She pulled away gently, and held my eyes for a moment longer before picking up her drinks and walking away with a, "Yeah...It's definitely a possibility."

Both John's and Brian's jaws were now on the floor with mine. My eyes trailed her as she returned to her table to more jaws on the floor. I didn't leer at her ass as I am sure John did. I didn't fixate on the gentle sway of her hips either. I took in all of her as she retreated, this enigma who just left an imprint that has yet to fade. I turned back to the bar with so much electricity surging through me I barely heard John's tirade of advice about what to do next or Brian gulping his beer in disbelief that he was a bystander for what just occurred. That charge shifted the feelings of shock to raw naked desire for this woman named Anya Taylor. Every pore of being knew what I was going to do next. I turned around in time to see her slip into the restroom. I left John and Brian at the bar mid-sentence and mid-swallow, and strode after her. Some last shred of propriety stopped me from following her in. I stood staring at the door, my craving for her growing with every second.

I don't know how long it was before she stepped out. I didn't give her but a moment to register who I was before I closed in. Never breaking eye-contact, I slowly but firmly pressed her against the wall. I slipped my hand behind her head and return the kiss, but this time it's different. This time we both want it to happen. I press my lips harder to hers and they willingly part. The tips of our tongues found each other as our bodies fully attached like magnets. Her nails dug into my back and a hunger took over. Our tongues probed deeper. I slid my other hand around her hips into the top of her jeans at her back and pulled her tighter even as I pressed forward with my hips. I was so hard I couldn't think straight, and I didn't want to. All I wanted was the lust to take over fully. Time lost meaning. I saw the immediate past of our first eye-contact. I felt the vibrations of her low moan and the pressure of her hardening nipples as our bodies and mouths and tongues hunted their counterparts. I trembled as I imagined sliding between her wet warm folds as she lay naked beneath me, her powerful legs wrapped around me, pulling me in.

The next thing I remember feeling is her hands on my hips, and they're pushing me away. We separated slowly...hips, then heaving chests, finally reluctant mouths still open. We look deeply into each other's eyes for a moment before she grabbed a fistful of my shirt and kissed me again before walking away. All eyes were on us as we returned to our respective parties. John gave me a few quick approving slaps on the back and asks, "Was that as hot as it looked?"

I smiled and allowed my thumb to slide into my back pocket, grazing the key card she discreetly deposited.

Our night had only just begun.