Even if I wasn’t an insomniac, I don’t think I would’ve been capable of succumbing to sleep that Sunday night.
Close to midnight, I went back through every bit of written contact Tony and I had. It was unfathomable after all this to change my mind about meeting him. But I wanted to reassure myself I was not driving into a set-up.
He and I were scheduled to adjoin the next day at around 10AM in Appomattox. Me being aware the Virginia State Police Division Headquarters was located in that area -- therefore a plethora of Troopers would be on hand for potential amusement -- I’d already decided I’d be hitting the highway to get there long before then.
My email analysis over, in the wee hours I donned a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, black and white printed T, and a pair of matching snakeskin high heels. I fixed my hair -- black, with royal blue straight bangs at the time -- and penciled on a dash of eyeliner. I added mascara as an afterthought. As I pulled out of the parking lot of my place, it struck me that I was dressed near identically when I’d gotten together with an Albemarle County cop.
I rolled into Appomattox at dawn. Just as I expected: Trooper Heaven! I followed this one and snagged a few photographs, chased after that one and got a few more snapshots. I was trailing lackadaisically behind a third, down an unmarked back road, when suddenly he swerved. Paying attention to the pavement, I spotted the avoided tortoise. Sure that, regarding flattening a reptile, not every motorist would be as kind as the lawman and me, I abandoned my pursuit of the officer in order to rescue the clueless creature. Scooping the turtle off the concrete, I saw there was really no good patch of land nearby to relocate it to. Sticking the shelled critter on my passenger side floor, I set off to find it a less dangerous home. That’s when my cell rang. At quarter after seven, turned out Tony had gotten into town ahead of time as well. He was waiting for me at the Exxon next to the Super 8 Hotel -- where we’d originally agreed to meet -- on Route 460. Box companion in tow, I, with heart apoundin’, looped into the gas station two minutes later.
I noticed the motorcycle. Then the dreamy man sitting in front of it on the grass, legs outstretched, back propped against a tiny tree. I slid my vehicle in the space next to the bike, pushed the gearshift to “P.” Here goes... everything. Striking my best closed-mouthed smile I hopped out to greet the guy who’d been teasing me for weeks. He rose to his feet.
Oh my God. He was hotter than hell. As great as they were, the pictures I’d seen of him had not done him justice.
We simultaneously splayed our arms to hug. We held on for, like, ever. It seemed so natural. So intoxicating. He looked good. He smelled good. He sounded good. He felt good. Before the end of the afternoon I’d discover he also tasted good.
Our salutations subsided, I mentioned that I had a friend with me and explained the presence of the turtle. Tony agreed to go with me to return it to the countryside.
Our conversation during the ride was as enjoyable as our embrace had been.
Cold-blooded organism safely delivered to the woods, my new human acquaintance wanted to pick up his m‘cycle -- he didn’t think it was secure where he’d left it -- and have me follow him to main street to find a coffee shop, which we did.
Inside the café slash bookstore, we cozied up intimately, side-by-side, on a large faux leather couch and recommenced chatting. A portion of my pale pink bra strap was exposed and Tony used his fingertips to move my shirt aside slightly to get a better view of the undergarment’s lace. There was definitely physical attraction going on, but, instead of being blatant about it, we let it simmer sweetly under the surface.
Law Enforcement and stuff relating to him were the main topics. I learned countless things from and about him.
Tired of the indoor atmosphere, we opted to go for a walk. But not before we each made a pit-stop at the restroom. We both joked about the single bathroom being unisex, and Tony, with a wink, kidded that we could’ve gone into it in concert. I laughed, responding it wasn’t big enough for the both of us. Tony is nothing short of strapping; the top of the toilet probably hardly came up to mid-shin on him.
We strolled to a little park up the street and got comfortable at a picnic table. It was there that our sexual chemistry became too tough for either of us to resist.
It all started with hand sex. Seriously. While we were speaking, we put both our right and left palms together and the erotic energy surged through us like currents of electricity. We separated our hands from one another and returned to the refuge of shooting the breeze. Eventually there was a brief span of silence. A moment later he leaned towards me bringing his mouth a shade from mine. When I went to complete the kiss, he moved back a smidge. My lashes parted wide in astonishment. He narrowed the gap between our faces again. I caught the gleam in his pupils. He was toying with me. I advanced slow and deliberate to unite with him, yet, once more, he ebbed away. I smirked at his foreplay. He made it plain his desire was to have me ask him for his lips to caress mine. Ultimately we connected, our tongues dancing with intensity. I was beginning to believe there was nothing Tony wasn’t amazing at.
Somehow I ended up straddled on his lap. I untucked his shirt so I could explore his upper body with my hands. I could tell he was excited, but he was adamant we would not go any further today than we had. I mutely debated whether I should be insulted or impressed by that.
After being in one another’s company for hours, it was time for us to part ways. Tony and I moseyed back to our respective transportations to say good-bye. Tony, as it so happens, is a hand-holder. Nice. Though both of us acknowledged we were pleased by the turn-out, we each expressed apprehensiveness that the other might be content to let this be the end of it all.
When I got home to my apartment, I found he’d already sent two emails to me.
