"Charlie?"
I looked around the place as I walked to her room, realising that my presence was made in most of the rooms. I could see my coat in the closet, my shoes by the door; but, beyond that, there were my foods in the kitchen, some of my work scattered on the coffee table, my movies by hers on a shelf, my pajamas on the floor in her bedroom.
Joey came out of the bathroom---where my toothbrush and razor have come to stay---wearing a nightgown that just made me wanna... well, let's just say it was very effective and getting my attention. I used to tell Josh she was a fine looking woman, but, man, she's just incredible.
She smiled and waved. *You're overdressed,* she signed, spelling each word out slowly, since I've barely graduated from fingerspelling.
"I was working," I replied, looking at her directly so she can read my lips.
"No work now," she said, smiling more as she came closer.
I took a deep breath. No, there would definitely be no more work. My brain's relinquished control to my body---specifically a part of my anatomy that was, well, beginning to swell with each step she took.
*More words tonight,* she spelled out.
*More words?* I spelled back.
She taught me like this sometimes. I rarely remembered the words. Some of them stuck. The obvious ones. The first time I came to her apartment, she folded her arms like she was cradling a baby, rocking her arms. I asked her why she was signing that word, which was baby, and she replied, "Because that's you," before giggling.
It was a little insulting. But, I still performed to the best of my ability. She was happy, I was happy. We curled up in bed, facing each other, and I said: "Baby is an easy word." She laughed.
"Yes. More words," she said, coming over and pausing in front of me.
"Okay. Let's have 'em."
She grinned, but kissed me first. She's an incredibly good kisser. She's the kind of incredible kisser that makes you wonder if you're holding up your end of the bargain, or if you're awful at kissing. She's intimidating.
But, then, all she has to do is touch me. And I forget about that insecurity.
This time, her hand slid up under my t-shirt, smoothing over my stomach before going to my back. We kissed for a while, like that, until I decided to make the next move and pull her down to her bed.
The second time I was invited to her apartment, we didn't make it to the bed. I was convinced she was the most amazing woman in the world. I tried to tell her how I felt, but she looked at me with a funny expression on her face, and lifted her hands.
Her left hand, making the letter V, moved palm down over her right hand, making the letter V, palm up. She moved it up and down a couple of times.
"Sex," she said.
Then, while shaking her head, she crossed her hands over her heart with her palms facing in.
"Not love."
It's been almost a year, and I haven't ventured into telling her how I really feel. I'm afraid she's gonna toss it back at me like she did then. The baby that doesn't know what love really is, back again. I don't think she would... I think I've gotten under her skin. But...
I'm a guy. I'm entitled to be insecure.
She kissed my neck, nibbling just enough to make me moan. Even though she can't hear it, she can feel the vibrations---or so she told me---and it's such a natural reaction to me that I don't think I could stop it if I tried.
My shirt was all but ripped off. My jeans joined the shirt on the floor. She kissed her way over my chest, and then looked up at me. I smiled and touched her cheek. She smirked and sat up, straddling my waist. Her right hand came up to her forehead, her fingers and thumb together, making what would have been the insides of a sock puppet. She moved it out a bit.
I raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Man," she said, smiling and blushing a little.
I've graduated. Baby to man in eight months.
I laughed and leaned up to bring her down for another kiss. She gives in, and I almost hope that the lesson is over for a little bit. Our fingers tease and tickle, while we kiss; I've come to find it difficult to tell the difference between the nightgown and her skin. She's just... soft and smooth and warm and comfortable and sexy as hell and oh---
"Off," she said flatly, tugging on my boxers.
"So soon?"
"Charlie..."
She always got me undressed first. She always kept herself covered as much as she could for as long as she could. Why are women insecure like that? I'm in bed with her. I'm not leaving. Especially since I've been in love with her for so long.
"Nope," I smiled, shaking my head. "You first."
I turned us over and spent a considerable amount of time on her, kissing and touching until she was so worked up that she didn't seem to mind that I was slipping her nightgown off. Brilliant work on my part, if I do say so myself.
Starting at her legs, I began working my way up her body once the silky fabric was on the floor with my t-shirt and jeans. I didn't do anything to satisfy her. I wanted to frustrate her like she's been frustrating me every night. She can tease, but I was convinced that I could do better.
"Charlie!"
She finally cried out when I ignored between her legs and kept going. I paused and looked up at her, resting my chin on her stomach. "Yes?"
Joey smiled at me. She brought her right hand up, fingers at her chin. As she moved her hand in a circle around her face, she said. "Beautiful."
"Me?"
"Yes, you," she replied.
"Cool."
She laughed.
I made my way up her body, and as we started kissing again, she tugged and kicked my boxers off. She picked them up and tossed them to the floor. I looked over and saw the clothes over the floor. Parties are more fun, because there's stuff everywhere. Tonight, there was minimal damage.
We moved slowly. She likes to rush sometimes, so it can be a bit of a power struggle at times. This time, it wasn't so much. When I slid inside of her, I groaned into her shoulder. She rubbed my back before lifting her legs and wrapping them around me.
She came first. She always does. Her face scrunches up and her nose wrinkles and then she bites her lip and whimpers, and then... I'm done. She doesn't mind when my arms give out, if I'm on top like I was tonight. She always waits patiently, and then we move onto our sides, facing each other.
She smiled at me, before kissing me again with her swollen lips. When we parted, she lifted her hands off of my body and moved her two hands, both forming the letter P, together in front of her.
"What's that?"
"Perfect," she murmured.
I copied her, making the sign with her. "Perfect."
"Yep," she nodded.
"Cool."
She laughed again and rested her head on my shoulder. "Yes."
"Joey?" I asked, touching her arm to get her attention.
She lifted her eyes and watched as I moved, crossing my hands over my heart. "Love."
She smiled and nodded.
Finally.
She lifted her right hand, her index finger up, palm facing me. Slowly, she moved the index finger in a circle.
I smiled. She was smiling, so I figured it was a good sign. I mean, her finger wasn't spinning around the side of her head, the international sign for crazy, so I felt confident.
"What's that?" I asked.
She picked up her hand and spelled out: "A... L... W... A... Y... S..."
I grinned. I couldn't wipe it off my face if I tried. "Always?"
She smiled back and nodded.
I think my toothbrush and razor are going to have permanent company soon.
The End!
