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I haven’t had a date in a while and am nervous and diffident as a result and embarrassed I’ve been satisfying myself but hopeful and excited tonight since Lupe’s coming over for dinner. I told her not to worry. A couple of others from work will be here, too.

I couldn’t have cooked this Saturday night even if I’d known how. I call for home delivery of Chinese food and take a long shower. Lupe arrives first and seems relaxed and we’re chatting when Harry and Reyna knock. They’re married to other people and, far as I know, aren’t involved with each other. We have a great time at dinner, joking in ways you can’t at work. After eating we move to the living room and listen to music until Harry and Reyna say they have to leave. “Me too,” says Lupe.

“Please, stay a few more minutes, Lupe,” I say, walking to the door and opening it for Harry and Reyna. “See you Monday.”

I extend an open palm toward the living room and say, “I bet you haven’t heard Haydn recently.”

She smiles, and I slide in a CD offering two symphonies.

I really don’t hear music, only the voice of Lupe. No matter how long it’s been you remember the sensations when opportunity approaches. Why hasn’t this been happening all along? I’m comfortable easing close to Lupe on the sofa and stretching my arm on top of the cushion behind her. I don’t want to rush it. I talk more but can’t hear words over my thumping heart, and she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want me to lean and kiss her cheek, and she turns her lips toward me and kisses wonderfully as we embrace and don’t stop for a long time until I ease her onto to the sofa and roll on top and in a few minutes say, “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

“No thanks.”

“Okay, right here.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like it,” she says.

“Sorry. Was I too aggressive?”

“No.”

“You seemed turned on.”

“Kissing’s okay, but I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had sex.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“But you’re in your mid-thirties.”

“I never liked it.”

“People go crazy without it.”

“I’d go crazy with it.”

“Do you prefer women?”

“I prefer not to discuss it,” she says, rising and walking to the door.

In a few hours, quite late, she wakes me with a call, and rebukes me with words I can’t understand.

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This entry was posted in Dating, Romance, Sex.