I’ve written before about my background with Sam, but there is always more to tell. Though there has been palpable sexual tension between us for quite some time, I will never forget the first time we hooked up.
Sam is in a band. They usually play local shows, but occasionally they travel to other cities in other states. Back in January, they played a show in a bar about 2 hours drive from where we live. My best friend Adam and I decided to go check it out; although it was a long drive, it was certainly more exciting than a boring Friday around here. I had wanted Mark to go too, but he ended up having to work late.
In the back of my mind I wanted to hook up with Sam, but I did almost everything I could think of to jeopardize my chances - which is to say, I took advantage of a half-day at work to get my roots dyed, wax everything off and buy a whole new outfit down to the underwear. Usually I don’t have that type of luck when I look my best. Usually choice hookups fall into my lap when I haven’t shaved, have migrating eyeliner, and go out not dressed to run into anybody. It seems like the more I prepare for the situation, the less likely it is to happen. I can’t explain this phenomenon, but I am well used to it.
So there I was, dressed in awesome-fitting jeans, a black lacy top that showed everything off just right, my favorite knee-high black leather boots with the four inch heels and velvet laces all the way up the front, and my velvet mini jacket to match. With my penchant for too-much eyeliner and my long black hair, I looked the part of a goth princess, albeit one going out for a night of live music, rather than to a Halloween costume party. I looked good and I knew it, which may explain why things happened the way they did – my confidence triumphed over the curse of over-preparation.
Adam and I made the long drive up to the bar. I let him drive, though we took my car. When we arrived, we met up with Sam and some of the other members of his band hanging outside in the parking lot smoking cigarettes and drinking Jagermeister straight from the bottle. Sam greeted me with a surprised look and a big hug. I think he assumed Mark would be there and wasn’t expecting me to show up with just Adam.
As the night was unseasonably warm – I barely needed my light jacket – we stood outside and talked and drank for a while before the bands started. Sam insisted on giving me a little baggie of coke (on the sly, as Adam doesn’t mess with that stuff), some really nice Jagermeister shot glasses that he had originally bought for himself but had left in his trunk, and free tickets to the show. He seemed really happy to see us, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. When he talked about how he had gotten a hotel room for the night, including giving us directions to it, I didn’t think much of that either. He even mentioned that he had left his triple-a card at the front desk of the hotel in case we wanted to crash there for the night. I told him that wasn’t necessary, as I wasn’t planning to drink all that much and Mark wouldn’t really like that idea. Looking back I think I must have been in one of my infinitely dense moods. But I digress.
Adam, Sam and I drank Jagerbombs in tall glasses while we listened to the first two bands. Though Sam had to spend time with his band and the other people he knew there, he made sure to keep coming back to hang out with Adam and me. I thought that was really nice of him. All night, whenever Sam would leave, Adam insisted that he could see how much he liked me. I kept waving it off. Sam is incredibly hard to read sometimes.
By the time Sam and his band were about to go on, it had begun to rain rather steadily. Leaving Adam inside, I went outside with Sam and we spent a cigarette break (he smokes, I don’t) under the underpass across the parking lot. We were talking and laughing and joking and he was standing very close. It was then that the devious little gears in my brain began to work. He still insisted we shouldn’t drive home if we were to continue drinking. I really didn’t want to go, either, as we were having a really good time. I didn’t go so far as to surmise that we would hook up, but I just didn’t want the evening to end.
I called Mark and he didn’t answer his phone, so I left him a message that said it was pouring. I told him that I would be home, but we weren’t going to leave here until the rain slowed down a bit. Mark knows I hate driving in the rain at night because of a minor case of astigmatism, so the scene was officially set. I didn’t promise Sam anything, but I said I would think about staying.
After the show was over, the three of us sat around drinking until they threw us out of the bar. Adam and Sam both convinced me that we should stay the night. So we followed Sam to his hotel and Adam and I checked into a room with two beds. But we did not stay there, we adjourned directly to Sam’s room. Nobody was tired yet, though it was almost 2 AM.
As we drank Jager over ice and blew copious lines, Sam led the conversation into deeper territory than previously. We ended up within a bizarre game of truth or dare, which was much more truth than dare. We all revealed things about ourselves that we don't normally divulge. We spoke of religion - I have none, Adam has very little, but Sam is a Christian to the core with a belief in creationism and eternal damnation. I never would have thought so, because he and I see eye to eye on so many things. When we spoke of our ideas and beliefs, we met at many more points than I have with anyone else who follows any second-aeon religion. I guess that is because he has his own intellectual basis for believing what he does; he is not like the other sheep who believe what they are told.
Sam is a bit of a voyeur - he insisted that I kiss Adam, though Adam and I don't ever roll that way, just so he could watch. Then Adam, forever the faithful wingman, insisted that Sam kiss me. Sam said that he couldn't because he never cheats on his wife. That, plus the alcohol and the coke, was enough to challenge me. So I reasoned that I had kissed Adam, so Sam should kiss Adam too. Adam, who has never expressed a gay thought or inclination for as long as I have known him, did not flinch when Sam moved in for his kiss.
Little did either of them know how much that shit turned me on.
Sam said something sweet about kissing me by proxy, via Adam, and I told him that it just wasn't the same. He asked me why I wanted to kiss him and I answered that he intrigued me. He wondered why and I said that he always had, I said that he was different than most people. He said how he loved my eyes, and loved my lips and then approached me. While bracing himself on the arms of the chair in which I sat, he leaned in toward my mouth ever so slowly. It felt like decades before his lips met mine, but the softness of his kiss made it all well worth the wait. As he retreated to his seat on the corner of the bed, he had one of those devious looks I would come to know and love.
"You're not so dominant," he said. I was coming to recognize that was the kind of game he liked to play - a battle of wills. That was one of my favorite games, too, but I seldom met anyone who was truly any good at it.
"You kissed me when you said you wouldn't," I retorted. I did not reveal that it is always my M.O. to make them think it was their idea, no matter what happens. I was not quite ready to tip my hand to that extent.
The conversation continued for a bit longer, until Sam said that he should probably walk us back to our room. Adam was getting sleepy, but I was still wide awake from the coke and the excitement. We made the trek back to our room, and Adam barely made it to his bed before passing out.
"Good night," I said to Sam, all the while wanting him to ask me to come back to his room.
"Unless you're not tired."
"I might be."
"Ok, tough girl, I'll see you in the morning." He wasn't going to give in, he knew exactly what I was playing at.
I knew what I had to do. I had to give in just a little, express desire instead of playing my usual cool. As much as it pained me to relinquish the upper hand, I said "I'm not that tired, if you're not."
"So come on, let's let Adam get some sleep."
The walk back down the mile-long hallway to his room seemed to take a fraction of a second. All of a sudden we were inside. I tried to flip the lights off, but the voyeur in him wouldn't let me. We kissed passionately and deeply, and made our way to the bed. I took the more dominant physical role, guiding our actions, undressing him first, undoing his zipper, flipping my tongue over every inch of him. He was in control mentally, though, as he kept guiding us into conversations about life and ideas, intermittently dispersed with bouts of physical contact. Though we were together for hours, our time seemed more like a long conversation than a fucking session. He elicited more from me than I usually gave. Again he insisted that I wasn't so dominant. He erased all my reservations with regards to him seeing my imperfect form, and won me over on a purely mental level.
After all was done, after we had caught a few hours sleep and were set to depart for home, I left him with the comment that "That was the least mundane evening I've ever spent." I have been so used to sex without intimacy for so long that what happened between us was absolutely incredible and different and unusual. He is very special indeed to make someone like me feel that sex is new again.
Now you know why he is my favorite crush.
