1. First Kiss
By Gavin Trevain
Prologue
The tale begins now if, indeed, a story has a beginning, middle, or end. It
seems a girl named K has recently met this guy named J and things are starting
to look promising. Without further ado, let's peek in on the pair on their
third date.
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Story
J, ever the gentleman, opens the door for K and waits patiently for her to get
in.
K smiles absent-mindedly to herself as she waits for him to walk around to the
driver's door. As the engine roars to life, K notices the long glance as he
asks her how she's enjoying the date.
"Terrific! The band was hot," she enthuses. "I'm so glad we seem to enjoy the
same kinds of music."
"You know K," he declares earnestly, his right hand pausing slightly on the gear
shift, "I've noticed we seem to have quite a few things in common. If you liked
the band so much, how would you like to come over to my place and just kick back
and listen to some music?"
"Gee, I don't know, J," K says demurely. "Are you sure music is all you have in
mind?"
"Well, to be honest," J responds reflectively, as he begins to back out, "I
think we've had a nice romantic evening so far and I'd just like it to go on a
little longer."
As he pulls into the street, the din of the traffic contrasts with the silence
emanating from K. He looks over causally and is rewarded with her response.
"As long as I get to keep all my clothes on. After all, I'm not that sort of
girl!" K proceeds, "And, you agree to drive me home."
"Absolutely!" J promises, raising his right hand above his shoulder.
"Then I guess the answer is 'O.K.' J," K murmurs, as she smiles softly to
herself.
At his apartment, K and J start to relax and enjoy the music and the tangy scent
of the cinnamon candles adorning the mantle. K is definitely starting to feel a
little more comfortable and is really unwinding with the friendly conversation.
The glances are getting longer and she senses J may be ready to make his move.
"You know I'm just dying to kiss you!" J acknowledges abruptly.
K smiles sweetly and tries not looking too anxious. "And is there some army
impeding your progress?"
J laughs nervously. "Actually, I must admit I'm a really incurable romantic."
J goes on, "Since we've never kissed, I would like our first kiss to be really
special."
K, now a little intrigued, asks, "How exactly do you plan to make it special?"
"Do you remember that ketchup commercial from the 1970's with the song sung by
Carly Simon, 'Anticipation'?"
"Kind of," K replies, now a little confused. "What does ketchup have to do with
a kiss?"
"The line from the song, K, is the key," J explains. " 'Anticipation is making
me wait,' is the line attached to the notion of the slow pouring ketchup." J
continues, "The implication is that not only is it worth waiting for, it's a
surprise when it finally comes out of the bottle."
Still not completely sure what he's getting at K asks, "Eh? J."
"Since when did you become Canadian?" chuckles J, "Eh, K?"
K catches on at last, and for some inexplicable reason, they both collapse in
hysterics. This eases the escalating tension and they unconsciously engage in
an embrace.
When they get off the floor, J outlines his master plan, "I want to kiss you
tonight but I would like it to be a surprise to you when and even where you will
be kissed. So I would like to blindfold you and have you remain blindfolded
until we kiss."
"You would, would you?" K considers, her spine secretly tingling at the idea, as
she has never mentioned to J that this has always been one of her fantasies.
"And I'm not going to get a nasty surprise like a pie in the face, or worse, a
face full of ketchup?" she inquires.
J shakes his head. "The thought never entered my mind."
"And I don't have to get naked at any time, right?" adds K.
"Not unless you absolutely insist," J offers helpfully. "Like Burger King, I'm
always prepared to do it your way!"
K grins, retorting, "Anticipation of that will be making you wait." K takes in
his warm friendly smile and gives him the green light, "Go ahead."
J walks over and stands behind her. "Close your eyes," he whispers tenderly.
K presses her eyelids together. She listens resolutely but does not hear J
quietly withdraw something from his coat pocket. She senses something soft
brush over her forehead and over her ears. K feels a knot being tied behind her
head and, a few seconds later, a slight tug as a second knot is applied.
Instinctively, K opens her eyes underneath the blindfold. She discovers that
not only can she not see a thing through or under the blindfold, she cannot even
discern if there is a light on in the room. K, finding herself in total
darkness, suddenly feels a little vulnerable, but also thrilled at the same
time.
"Wow! It's totally black. I can't see a thing," volunteers K before J can even
ask the perfunctory question.
J walks in front of her to admire his handiwork. "Good. Are you sure it's not
too tight?"
"No, it's actually very comfortable," K remarks. "I'm just curious to know what
you've used to blindfold me," she adds, her fingertips involuntarily reaching
for her forehead.
"It's a lovely black Hermes silk scarf to which I've added a pad," J clarifies.
"The pad is actually an old black satin sleepmask with the elastic bands cut off
since they were starting to fray."
"I'm happy to see you believe in recycling, too," K comments, her fingertips
feeling the fabric, enjoying the sensual feel of the silk.
J deliberately remains silent for a few moments allowing her to drift
comfortably into the pleasure of being completely blindfolded.
After a while he offers her his hand and helps her to sit on the floor.
As K gets accustomed to her sightless state, she hears the soft music and drinks
in the permeating aroma of the scented candles. For the first time she becomes
aware of her breathing and the thumping in her chest, which sounds like a
jackhammer. She forces herself to inhale more deeply and notices the scent of
his cologne for the first time. She only senses his presence next to her for
she cannot hear his voice.
Her mind starts to wander as she unknowingly closes her eyes under the
blindfold. She imagines J watching her and wonders what he is thinking. Is he
staring at her? Is he getting ready to jump her bones? She dismisses the
thought almost before it sets foot in her head. No, she feels her level of
trust for J increasing. She is tempted to bridge the auditory abyss until she
hears his clear, calming voice.
"Hey K, you look wonderful, tonight."
K basks in the compliment and her broad cheerful smile is clearly visible even
though her bright, honest eyes are concealed. "Sounds like you took the words
right out of Eric Clapton's mouth."
"You mean like you just did, MeatLoaf?"
K's mind races to assimilate the snappy retort. She controls herself just long
enough to deliver her own comeback, "I suppose the only reason you say that is
that you've got me as blind as a bat out of hell?" For the second time in the
evening the pair finds themselves convulsed in laughter.
As the mirth subsides, K finds she is luxuriating in another embrace, her hands
enfolding him, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. "You know J, I'm
really enjoying myself tonight."
"Well, I did hear that girls just wanna have fun."
"Now don't get me going again," K responds, "I was being serious."
J debates issuing another comeback but decides against it noticing the shift in
her mood. Instead he holds her a little closer, drawing energy from the warmth
of her body. He uses the fingertips of his free hand to caress her cheeks
downward and tenderly traces her mandible to her maxilla with his fingernails on
the upward stroke. "I'm having a really good time too," he speaks eventually.
"And I do appreciate you trust me enough to play my foolish game."
"It's not foolish," K ponders, having momentarily forgotten she was engaged in
this delightful game. When was he going to do it? It really didn't matter. "I
feel safe with you," she hears herself say. "I don't think you would ever hurt
me."
J rubs her upper arm. "It's about mutual respect," he says. "And I do want you
to feel comfortable tonight."
K snuggles a little closer and hears his voice again.
"Most people don't realize that kissing is far more intimate than the sexual
act, itself."
"I think I know what you mean," K says thoughtfully. "If a relationship is in
trouble, you know it's over when the kissing stops." She appends
appreciatively, "But only a real romantic would know that."
J thanks her for the compliment and says, "I'd just like to talk for a while and
get to know you better."
K, not in the least bit self-conscious now about the blindfold encasing her
eyes, finds herself completely under his spell. She is totally immersed in the
conversation and finds she is forced, in the absence of normal observable
communication cues, to concentrate only on his words. She loses all track of
time in her visual void.
Eventually, she feels his hands on hers pulling her up to a standing position.
He invites her to dance. "It will have to be something slow given my
condition," K muses. "Do you have anything slow but just a little funkier?"
"I've got just the thing," she hears him say. She hears his footsteps drawing
away; the music stopping; a slight thud of something hitting wood; the clicking
rustle as he fingers the CD's in his rack; the faint whir of the carousel
ejecting and returning; and, footsteps. She perceives him standing in front of
her before she even hears his voice.
"Gee, K, you look so fine," J observes, "I'd really like to take your picture."
"Not!" K shrieks in horror. "The next thing you know I'll probably find myself
plastered all over the Internet or something. We all know what happened to
Pamela Lee!"
"O.K.," J assures her. "I guess we'll pass on that for now."
K feels his left hand on her right and his other hand on her waist as the music
begins. K and J start to sway to 'R.,' the latest from R. Kelly. Just for an
instant after the first dance (Disc 1, Track 4), K senses that he is very near
to her lips. Unexpectedly, she feels gooseflesh on her arms, and her lips part
momentarily, almost imperceptibly, in anticipation. Is he toying with her or
are her senses only playing tricks on her? Enveloped in the darkness of her
blindfold, K will never know.
Gradually, K relaxes again and allows him to lead her across and around the
hardwood floor in a second dance (Disc 1, Track 15). Before she even knows it,
she is dancing to another tune (Disc 2, Track 11), feeling very warm and safe in
his arms, her face crushed against his chest, trusting him completely.
All of a sudden the song ends and she finds herself standing alone. She is
unable to see J press the stop button on the CD changer. The room is suddenly
in silence and K perks her ears up attempting to figure out what he's doing.
"I was just going to put on a different album," J remarks. "But a thought just
entered my mind."
Relieved to hear his voice again, K says sardonically, "It must have been very
lonely in there."
"Just for that," the voice appears closer to her now, "I think I'm going to make
the challenge more difficult for you."
"You have a challenge for me?" K queries.
"I'd like you to find the CD remote control but I'm not going to tell you where
I left it in the room."
"Would I be able to see it if I weren't blindfold?" K ventures.
"Yes. And, because of your last nasty crack," J persists, "You'll have to find
me, too."
"I'm willing to give it a try," K declares, excited about this new game.
"You have to find both the remote and me in less than, say, four minutes?"
"What do I get if I win?" asks K.
"Perhaps," J speaks more deliberately, "You will be rewarded with what you've
been waiting for all night long."
"Ooh!" exclaims K rubbing her hands together. "And what if I lose?"
"Then you're going to have to wait even longer for your reward."
"O.K.," agrees K. "When do I start?"
"Not so fast," he cautions, standing in front of her. "I just want to make sure
you still can't see."
She feels hands pressing the silky material against her face. "I really can't
see a thing," she assures him.
"And so as not to make this too easy," J suggests, "I'm going to spin you around
a few times. Ready?"
K nods and feels him grab her arms and revolve her. She thinks he is finished
until he whispers for her to take three steps forward, which she does while his
hands remain on her arms. K feels herself being whirled again. At the end, he
instructs her to take another two steps forward.
"I really have no idea where I am," K pleads.
"O.K.," J states, "I'm going to turn you around for the last time, and then the
clock will start."
When K finally stops twirling, she finds herself dizzy and totally disoriented.
She feels a brief tinge of panic as she realizes she has to figure out on her
own where she is. There is no sound of music to assist her. She extends her
hands forward and begins a few sweeping motions. Gingerly, she forges forward
in search of something to orient her. She alternates her hands high and low as
she moves forward, determined not to bump her knees into the coffee table.
After three or four steps, she has not made contact and starts to worry a
little. She becomes aware of the clicking of her heels and realizes she is on
the area of the hardwood floor not covered with a throw rug. In her mind she
tries to remember the layout of the room.
At last, after another two steps her fingertips sweep against something. It's a
wall. She breathes a sigh of relief. Feeling her way along the wall, she comes
to an edge. K concludes she is either heading into the front hallway or the
stairs leading to the loft. She moves sideways, her left hand desperately
seeking the stairwell banister. She smirks as she realizes she has succeeded in
orienting herself.
She turns away from the stairwell and aligns herself by putting her feet
together and pressing the back of her shoes against the first step. She
ventures forward more confidently, her right hand searching for the TV, and is
quickly rewarded. She sweeps the top of the TV to ensure the CD remote isn't
there. K is puzzled when she does find a remote control. She can't recall
whether there was one there before. Never having been accused of not being too
bright, she takes a step back and fumbles with the remote, pointing it at the
TV. K eventually succeeds in finding the power button as the TV comes to life.
She leaves it on and places the remote back on top of the TV.
She quickly moves past the TV and runs her fingers past the stereo stand. K
pauses at the CD stacker and feels the top of it with no luck. She realigns
herself again against the CD rack and moves forward searching for the end table.
She finds it and is almost instantly rewarded with the remote, which she holds
in her right hand.
"One down and one to go!" K yells triumphantly.
Soon she is on a throw rug again. Her hands reach lower and she contacts a
chair. J is not on it. She keeps her hands low and finds the edge of the
coffee table. She moves around and finds the leather couch.
J, who has been admiring her performance in quiet amazement, has been lurking at
the other end of the sofa. Seeing the jig is almost up, he quietly gets up and
tries to escape toward the stairs. There is a sound, followed by a curse, as
his shoes cross the hardwood floor. This does not go unnoticed by K, who
realizes her prey, J, is on the move.
Using her left hand to guide her past the coffee table she moves towards the
sound of the TV. She touches the TV screen, finds the TV remote and presses the
power button. In the silence, she listens intently for his footsteps. Hearing
nothing, the huntress decides to move quickly to corner her quarry. She moves
forward, her arms swinging in several directions. Unbeknownst to her, she
narrowly misses J who is crouching by the stereo stand. He decides to retreat
the way he came. This proves to be a fatal mistake.
Hearing an unexpected sound, K quickly spins around and finds her swinging right
hand containing the remote making contact with the hunted. Any possible doubt
is erased when she hears what sound like the yelp of a wounded animal, and a
thud as something heavy hits the floor.
She quickly falls to her knees and gropes for the injured mutt. "Are you O.K.,
J?" K inquires, as her hands graze a leg.
"I'll live," J whines. "Except that next Sunday I think I'll be singing
soprano."
"Oh! I'm so sorry," K says, only half-apologetically. "Look at your watch."
"2:43."
"With about a twenty second injury timeout I guess that makes it a solid 2:23,"
K reckons. "I win! I guess it's time for my prize."
J laughs at his misfortune and helps up the victor. "O.K., O.K., K," J
concedes, "I have to admit that you were absolutely magnificent in your quest."
As he hugs her warmly, he says, "You've earned your reward in spades. Now I
just want you to stand here perfectly still to receive it."
K smiles to herself as she realizes what a wonderful evening it has been. She
hears the spring of the CD changer and the twelfth track of 'Songs from Ally
McBeal' is turned way up. It is Vonda Shepard's remake of the 1963 classic
'It's In His Kiss.'
K cannot believe how quixotic this is. She feels a tingling sensation as she
anticipates J standing in front of her. She starts to hunger for the touch of
his lips as she gets goose pimples again. She listens intently for any sound
but the music is too loud. She is not aware that J has silently removed his
shoes. She loses herself in the moment as she gets wrapped up in the song.
Suddenly, she feels his breath on her bare shoulders. Her nostrils detect the
faint hint of his cologne. She feels a gentle kiss on her neck, which almost
tickles. Next, she feels his lips on her upper back between the crisscross
straps of her black mini-dress. She gets weak as he busses the back of each
knee. For a moment she feels nothing. Finally, she feels a feather-soft caress
on her lips. Her arms encircle her partner as her lips part to meet his. She
feels a firmer pressure being exerted on her lips just as the song ends.
Bound in the blissful blackness beneath her blindfold, K surrenders serenely,
sensually to the euphoric, endless first kiss.
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Epilogue
Legend has it that by the time the first kiss ended Vonda Shepard had got to
Maryland.
J did drive K home that night (or more precisely, it was the wee hours of the
morning). He inserted the key into the lock of her door and, giving her their
first goodnight kiss, helped her inside.
K's clothes did stay on all night, as did something else.
Rumor has it that a gorgeous Hermes silk scarf and a strapless satin sleepmask
are among K's sexy souvenirs.
**************
Author's Note:
Readers of this story may make a copy for their personal use. The author's
permission is required for any other use or dissemination of this story in any
form, any such use acknowledging me as the author of the work. The author has
granted permission for this novel to appear on 'The Blindfold Page'. Author's
E-mail address: trevain@home.com
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A Tale of Three Cities Trevain (1998-12-18)
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