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The twinkle in his eye as he bows and motions me inside the apartment again would be melodramatic and cheesy in most any other man. “Welcome to my humble abode, my fair lady.” In Zen, it looks positively natural. I can’t help but blush and smile into my single red rose. I might have even floated inside, I felt so light.
He orchestrated a perfect evening. It may have taken a couple weeks for him to shove obligations aside to make time, but our first official date was everything I could have hoped for from him. Starting with a motorcycle ride to a quiet bistro he knew of in the hills; I was surprised at how safe I felt grabbing him from behind. Sweet man, he even tucked his ponytail in his jacket to make sure I didn’t get lashed. I never had a doubt he was utterly in control of the bike, and he didn’t seem to be taking any risks with me.
Delicate wine, delicious food, the best company in the world. He spent the entire evening telling me entertaining and animated stories of previous jobs and stupid stuff he did in his less than straight and narrow days. Showing off how respectable he was now, of course. He even pulled stories from me I hadn’t even realized I remembered, much less had told recently. We closed the kitchen, so wrapped in each other we were.
I’m not sure I had laughed as much in ages.
I’m pretty sure it was his laugh that I fell in love with first when we were talking on the phone. Was that really less than a month ago?
Next, a detour on the way home to his private spot afterwards. Stars above, city lights below, the whole evening seemed to glitter. He kissed me here. It’s not like we hadn’t kissed in the last couple of weeks I had been staying with him. But in this place so special to him, there was a heated tenderness, a vulnerability in the kiss that seemed different.
“May I take you back to my residence, my princess? I find I do not want this evening to end,” he whispered past my cheek. I shivered. I could just nod.
After we parked the motorcycle, he held a finger up and excitedly asked me to stay just right there for a moment. Confused, I did while he ran around the corner. When he returned a few minutes later, it was with a stroll, hands behind his back, a peculiar smile ghosting his lips.
Upon reaching me, he covers my eyes with one hand. And next thing I feel is a softness under my nose, the unmistakable scent of rose on the air. I dodge around his hand to look at him in the street light. One thing about him being that pale, his blushes are beautifully evident even in lighting like this. “I wanted to get you one early in the evening, but when I decided on our transportation tonight given your enthusiastic wish to ride, I didn’t want it to get damaged.”
I throw my arms around his neck to give a squealing hug, “I swear, if I get one more surprise tonight, I am going to be so spoiled!” his arm wraps tight around my waist and the firmness of his torso makes my heart race even more.
“Think of it as an apology for making you wait so long for a first date, my love.” His voice lowers, “But I was hoping you’d be up for one or two more surprises tonight.” Fire burns deep in his eyes. His racing heart is syncopated with mine. I had hoped, but I know for sure that tonight is the night.
“I could handle one or two,” I murmur. He reluctantly loosens his arm, and I trail my hands down his chest. One hand captured by his, the other now clutching my single red rose, he escorts me to his front door like the perfect gentleman he is.
Which brings us to now. He slips my coat off my shoulders and proceeds to hang it up for me. I slide my shoes off and bounce into the kitchen area to find water for the rose.
I return to the living room space looking for a surface it will be visible but safe. What I find is Zen fiddling with his stereo right by the window, a cigarette dwindling in a fidgety hand. A couple strategic lights are on, but certainly not all. Just as I’m about to reach him, he delightedly discovers the station he was looking for and stubs out his cigarette. A soft jazzy saxophone drifts through the air. He turns around with an infectious smile and an outstretched hand. “May I have this dance, my lady?”
I place the vase on a side table and take his hand. Oh, I love the way he sweeps me into his embrace. It’s less dancing, more swaying and roaming hands.
Everywhere I touch him, he’s so… built. I know that he works so many hours a week to maintain that body, at least when there isn’t a show burning all those calories for him. The contrast to the softness I feel where he touches my own body heightens my self-consciousness. With the basic office job I have, it’s not like I have the same kind of time to work on myself. But I can feel where this night is going if his bold yet tentative fingers are tracing out the script on my skin.
I can tell I am getting stiffer in my movements as I struggle to banish the doubts. Will I be pretty enough for him? You can cover enough flaws with the right shape of cloth. It’s been long enough since I’ve been that vulnerable with someone even though I know I’m young, I’m not the age I was when I thought I looked amazing.
His hands move to soothing broad strokes, “Am I moving too fast for you? I can slow down,” he murmured. His fingers start to pet, and he leans in towards my ear to whisper, “But I had really… really… been hoping I could make love to you tonight.”
Oh… his voice does things to me. It hits low and hot and tight and desirous. His nose nuzzles my hair, lips teasing at my ear. I lightly swoon in his strong arms holding me close. My heavy lidded eyes and languid smile turn towards his seductive smolder. He kisses me quick, and lifts me up to carry me to the bed.
Lips on mine, the kisses start to get more frenzied, more passionate. His fingers trace up to my neck and starts to pull the zipper down on my dress. The cool air shocks me, and I stiffen again as I realize that the lights are on in this room.
Again he backs off, concern overshadowing his face, “What is it, babe?”
I curse my tomato red face and frustrating stammer at this moment, “C-c-can the l-l-lights be off a-at least?”
He searches my face trying to suss out what has me so on edge I freeze while he is touching me. We had talked about how neither of us was an innocent. How do you tell the man you're intimidated by his otherworldly beauty and that you fear being found lacking?
“If you are not up for that tonight, I can be patient. I will wait until you are ready." No… no no no, I have to stop this train of thought. He is getting the wrong idea.
"It's not that. I..." My skin burns with embarrassment. I close my eyes and ball my hands against his concern. "I'm just not ready for you to see me." There. I got it out.
His petting hand tucks a lock of of hair behind my ear with the sort of care one treats spun glass. I feel the love emanate from his fingertips and hesitantly look at him again. I see wonder writ across his face.
"Some day… I will convince you that you are perfectly beautiful in every way. Enchanting even.”
I’m sure my confusion is plain because he smiles ruefully. "I do not as of yet have every corner of you mapped in my mind though. So would you accept a compromise? I don't want either of us to accidentally injure the other. I may heal crazy quick, but it would put a damper on the evening."
Still confused, I nod affirmatively. His smile brightens, and he gets up to dig around in a couple drawers, mumbling to himself. "A-ha!" He exclaims, clutching a worn bag. He holds up a finger, and goes back out to the living room. When he returns, the bag is tucked under his arm and his thumb is flicking his lighter.
Off go the bedroom lights, and a single cone of light flickers. He starts lighting another tea light. Ah! Tea lights! "Now tell me when you think one more will just be too bright for you to bear." A second is placed a bit away from the first.
True to his word, he continues lighting and placing them on surfaces around the room until I stop him having accidentally went too far and lit too many. He just smiles and blows one out and waits for my smile. Bounding over to the bed, he pounces me with an overwhelming kiss. Slow and deep and electrifying, the edges of my consciousness dissolve under his tender ministrations.
My eyes refocus slowly when he pulls back to gaze at me. "There..." He drawls. Fingers brush my hair back again, and he rolls so we are laying on our sides facing each other. “You look far more comfortable.”
His pale beauty reflects a gentle warmth in the candlelight, but it seems more like the warmth exudes from him than the light casting any mood upon both of us. “How do you do that?” I breathe.
He tilts his head in curiosity, and starts kissing little pecks all over my face at a reverential pace. “Do what?”
“Charm me into feeling at ease?”
“Theatre skill? I learned how to convince people to feel the way I wanted?” He looks uncomfortable and uncertain at that, like he’s revealing a side of himself that he’s worried I won’t like. He smiles his genuine lopsided smile, the one that isn’t for the public, isn’t for the cameras, is only for me.
“No, that can’t be it. I just think you’re sweet,” conviction laces through my words.
His laugh wraps like gossamer around me, delicate and strong. The hint of a dangerous glint flashes in his eye and he traps me in his arms. “I fear you have gotten our roles confused, my love. You see, I’m actually a beast here to ravish the sweet young maiden.” A quick playful nip at my lip and suddenly he has rolled us so I’m straddling him leaned down into a kiss.
Hands are everywhere. I try to balance myself on his firm pecs, but his hands grip my backside to grind my pelvis into his. Mouths kiss and bite and suck and lick. It is hot and playful and a little rough and tumble. I don’t even notice when he undid my zipper fully, but my dress is near falling off now. I kneel up for a second, but he is a fast follow to lift my dress off me in one move.
Zen is positively too clothed. I go to start picking apart his shirt when the look on his face freezes me still. His lips are two perfectly parted red petals allowing shallow breaths to escape. Merlot colored eyes scan my body up, down, left, right. If there had been anything other than sheer wonder writ clear across his face, I might have been self-conscious.
“You…” This was worship. A loss of words because there are none to be had. After a moment he continues, “You are… NOTHING less than amazing.”
I can only deflect, “You’re one to talk, Zen.”
“We already both know I’m incredible. You definitely need to hear it more about yourself.” His hands snake around behind me and his lips start nipping at spots along my neck and collarbone. “And I will tell you again and again every single day for the rest of our lives until you know it. And then I’ll still tell you.”
Moments of pleasurable pain as his teeth journey across my skin tries to distract me from my task, but finally, I manage to at least get his shirt open. My bra pops open, and I have to shrug out of it. He takes that moment to strip himself bare chested as well.
He glows. His skin just absorbs the candlelight and he looks so unearthly. Have I been captured by a fairy king and taken to his underground world? And this beautiful creature wants *me*.
Faster, I start undoing his pants when he rolls me over again and presses down from on top of me. His desire is thick and insistent against me. Skin so smooth against my finger tips, I hook under the back of his pants and urge them down. Heat builds and I can tell I am so wet with want of him. Once his pants get to just an inconvenient point, he backs up with a growl and yanks them off fast as he can. I take that moment to divest myself of the last of my panties and pantyhose, our eyes never leaving each others.
And then in perfect sync, we crash against each other, a flurry of hands and lips and gasps and grinds of hip to hip. I can’t get over how soft his skin is under my fingertips, his fingers across my curves. Moving across him is like writhing on silk. I kiss whatever skin I can find in front of me, desperate for the taste of him.
His delicate fingers slip between my legs and suddenly I am at his mercy. I can feel his cock pulse against me when I cry out in joy at his touch. Lips drift to one of my nipples and the single moment I can get a look at his face, it is clear he is in heaven before his fingers render me unable to pay attention to anything other than the things he wants me to feel.
Caresses, fingers pressing between my folds, skimming back up to my clit, teasing again. Whimpers escaping from me encourage him, wrapped around the side of me.
“Please. I need you,” I beg.
The separation is sudden and brief. He throws open his nightstand and pulls out a condom to roll on fast as he can. I don’t even have a chance to come down seeing him so desperate to get back to me. Positioning himself at my entrance, he is so hungry looking. A wolf in the snow hunting prey. I am caught under his eyes when he slides in smoothly.
So full. I swear, physically, there is not a way in which my Zen is not blessed. I can’t help but clench against him, pulling a groan from him.
“That. Is not. Playing fair. My love.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. HE FLEXED THERE when he said that! The joy is just so overflowing my chest shakes with laughter and I clench down again. A challenging and playful look crosses his face, and we have a few minutes of laughing and competition. Best feeling competition ever, and any nerves were broken in that moment.
I lean up to kiss him, and the playful nips between us cause enough movement that our competition is forgotten and heat builds again, even faster. An even rocking of thrust and pull, I cling to him. Musical theater means he’s a man who knows how to move his hips from all the dancing he has done. Nails dig more than I intend, but it keeps me oriented to him at least. Is there a word for feral adoration? I have no idea what I look like, but if there’s a word for that, that would be the look on my beloved’s face. Lips parted and panting alternating with teeth at times chewing at his own lips, pupils blown wide so his eyes almost look black. His voice in soft grunts of effort and pleasure that dances on goosebumps across my shoulders.
My arms switch to around his neck and threading through his hair and my legs lock behind him as an embrace. The longer this goes on, the harder a time we have keeping eye contact. It just feels too good. But I don’t want to miss a moment. The change in angle hits just the right spot to send me to an ever higher plateau. Fuck. And he’s drawing it out too: speeding up to drive me crazy, slowing down to drive me more. My fingers are so tangled at the nape of his neck and pulling that he laughs as he tugs against me.
I lift hips to meet his and get just a bit more friction, a bit more movement, a bit more anything so that it might send me over the edge. Bastard that he is though, he manages to keep me skirting the edge. He even leans down to devour my lips and I lose all sense of which way is up. Everything is heat and silk and sinew and thrust. His muscles ripple as he pounds against me.
When he breaks off, his voice is strained as he growls my name. My name has *never* sounded so sexy.
My voice responds high and breathy with supplication, “H-Hyun!”
Something clearly snaps. He slides a hand between us at that point to frantically flick my bud and push me flying over into ecstasy. Everything goes rigid within me, convulsing with pulse after pulse, and pulling him with me with a cry. Eyes locked through every throb and tremor, at least as much as we could keep them open, I have never experienced something so intimate and bare.
Slowing, he drops his forehead to mine, and stills himself inside me. Both of us are trying to catch our breaths. We stay like this until his erection begins to soften. Carefully he extricates himself from me, but curls along my side with a nuzzle into the top of my head. His heartbeat still clearly racing some. Well, fair enough, mine is too.
I can’t look him in the face, so I let my eyes drift closed for a moment at least.
“You. Are amazing,” my voice sounds stunned. How could it not after I’ve had the fuck of a lifetime. And this is only our first time. I am so glad this is my last first time because I am certain nothing could ever top that for a first time. His free hand gently caresses my breast. Sweat cools, but the part of me cradled by him is still warm so I can’t even think about moving.
“Never. Never believe that you are anything other than Perfection Incarnate, my love. Even on an average day you are stunningly beautiful. But at your peak, you’re exquisite.” Silver hair, silver tongue. Clearly. “I especially love the way your chest flushes post orgasm.” Oh that is taking it too far.
I hit him, but only lightly to try to distract from my embarrassment. “Zen…”
“No,” he whispers in my ear. “I like it when you call me my other name.” He pulls me somehow closer and his tense muscles convey an urgency. “You can do that any time you wish. But I most love it in bed, I believe.”
I bury my head into his torso best as I can so I don’t have to look him in the face, sliding his hand to my back. His fingers are so feathery delicate against my skin. “And you say I’m not fair,” I muffle into his chest.
“You aren’t,” he pouts. “I was trying to draw that out long as I could, maybe get at least an extra out of you, and then you had to say my name…” I look up at him to see that he’s blushing. Yep, definitely pouting.
His lips are too inviting, I have to reach up and kiss his lushness. “You aren’t really sad about that.” I don’t know where that cockiness from me is coming from at this point, but I know I’m right.
A smirk unravels across his face, “Just means I have another opportunity to really impress you at some point.”
“We’ll see,” I tease. “Now that I know the secret weapon against you.”
A deep laugh rumbles from him, his head tosses back with glee. “I am clearly no match for you. But I am going to have so much fun trying.” Hair falling to the side, I notice a spot on his collarbone. A red spot marring the alabaster smoothness of his skin. Shit, was that me? I’m going to have to be more careful in the future. My fingers fly up to it, panic clearly twisting my face. His eyes follow mine an see what I see. Before I can start pull away though, he just hugs me. “Don’t worry about it, I have stage makeup. Worst that happens are my coworkers teasing me and I can take it.”
When I look up at him, I see kindness and love. And maybe a bit of pride. It had been five years for him before tonight after all; I don’t know if he had any flings, but even if he did, it’s clear this is something he is not upset about. I relax back against him. Reaching back over to the night stand, he grabs a tissue, and gives a quick cleanup of himself.
“You sure you don’t want to shower?”
“Mmmmm, want to. And a cigarette. Don’t think I can move more than I have. Don’t want to leave you,” his voice is starting to get thicker with sleep. Eyelids flutter closed and breaths even out. The look of peace on his face, it’s almost childlike. All the innocence I know he has beneath the surface he tries to hide softens his face. My heart just skips a beat to see him like that. This precious man needs so much love.
I extricate myself to clean myself up. I rush through it though, figuring if he’s not going to take a shower, there’s no point in my doing so. Just making myself more comfortable. When I return, I circumnavigate the room to blow out every candle except the one right by the bed. I crawl in, and his arms find and tighten around me.
“You lef..” He slurs.
“Just for a moment. I’ll always come back.”
“Backatcha, babe. F’rever.”
I can’t help smile. A quick breath blows out the last candle, and I settle into his arms. What a perfect evening. Maybe if someone so amazing thinks I’m amazing, I can let a little bit of me believe him when he praises me. I can’t fully embrace it yet, but given time I just might. Held by my sleeping sweetie, I fast follow him into unconsciousness, happier than I have ever been.