Time Of Your Life by evergreenwriter83
Chapter 4 by evergreenwriter83
Chapter Four

February 20, 1998


Lake Buena Vista, Florida

I can’t dance. It’s one of those things that most scientists are not good at. There are too many thoughts about physics that play through a scientist’s mind that prevent the body from just naturally picking up a rhythm. I’ve always shied away from a dance floor.

I guess alcohol changes all that. I’ve never danced so much in my life. The songs are just so good. I know every word. I’m doing every single movement to Quad City’s The Train and the applause is directed towards me. Well, me and Brian. He can ride the train better than I can. I reckon that’s because of all of the grueling choreography sessions. The bartender, our new best friend, has spread the word it’s Brian’s birthday and there’s been more alcohol passed around than I’ve ever seen in my life.

I wanna take you home with me, to be alone with me
And I can see you wanna hide it, come on, just divide it
And please don't knock it, until you ride it


My hair has totally fallen into disarray. It’s a sweaty stringy mess of dual color. Brian’s hand has slid across my abdomen so many times I’ve lost count. I feel a little bit like Austin Powers when he is finally thawed from his cryptogenetically frozen state. The 90’s are to me like the 60’s are to Austin Powers. I have the opportunity to actually be popular the second time around.

“This is the best birthday ever!” Brian shouts in my ear, his arms around me, his pelvis grinding into me. I toss my head back and laugh. Everything is funny. I turn around, wrapping my arms around his sweaty neck. I look up into his eyes and he’s so real I could die.

And then he’s kissing me. It isn’t just a cheek peck. It’s a full on kiss with tongue and I think the train is going to derail. My fingers brush the curly sweaty tendrils at the back of his neck and I don’t pull away. I could drink him in for the rest of my life and die a happy old lady. I think people start to catcall, but I don’t fully hear them. My hearing is clogged by this kiss. He only pulls away when the oxygen becomes dangerously depleted. He pulls me closer and I can feel him hard against my leg. His fingers brush the hair that’s clinging to my neck. His lips are on my ear.

“Come with me,” he whispers. I nod. At this point there could be no other answer. He takes my hand and we make our way through the crowd. The music is still thumping as we exit the bar area. I barely notice the ‘Closed for Private Party’ sign that someone had placed right outside. The thought of me being in a private party would have been the epitome of cool had I not been so totally wasted. We exit out of a side entrance into a deserted area that’s so quiet that my ears protest. I’m sure that Brian will lead the way to the hotel, but instead my back meets the exterior of the building and he is over me, his lips on mine again. His hands are on my ass and our bodies grind against each other like they need to drink of each other or die trying.

I don’t know how long we are like this, but eventually my equilibrium begins to totally give out. He holds me close to him and we stagger along, giggling like two little kids. The hotel is right by HOB and the guy at the desk doesn’t even look up when we walk in the employee entrance. I’m sure he’s used to seeing drunk people practically crawl to their room. Even the idea of coming in through the employee entrance probably does not surprise him. I fleetingly wonder why we didn’t go through the front door but then I hear the noise. A column separates us from a full on view of the doors, but the noise is distinct. I have been part of that noise before. A crowd of girls is outside hoping for a chance to spot one of the boys.

But Brian is mine.

Brian is mine and he leads me towards the elevator, his hand brushing against my breast. We enter the metal box and he squints at the numbers. I’m not sure that he remembers what floor he is on, but eventually he presses a number and we ascend up, up, up.

It is a short ride but long enough for our lips to meet again. His hand slides up my tank top and I shiver as his thumb finds my nipple, strumming across it like a guitar. We are still in this compromising position when the doors open. I am sure my entire boob is hanging out of my shirt. I am also sure that I do not care since my boob is in Brian’s capable hand.

The rush of cooler air seems to register in Brian’s brain and he pulls me out of the elevator. It is a process to withdraw his room key and several failed attempts follow. I almost collapse to the floor. It is the first time in my life that my legs have ever felt like rubbery Jell-o.

Finally, the door opens and we stumbled inside. I grab his shirt and yank it over his head. It is not a smooth process but the result is a reward. My palms slide over his skin and his chest. I press my lips against his shoulder and start down. I rationalize that my knees were about to give out anyhow so this position will be infinitely better no matter what. His fingers slid through my hair and a moan escapes his lips as I kiss him through his basketball shorts. His length is impressive.

My sexual history is embarrassing, but I’m confident in my assessment. He tugs me back up for a second and I my tank is gone. Undressing while drunk takes much longer than it does when two consenting individuals are sober. With anyone else this slow down might be annoying, but with Brian it is like unwrapping a present that you’re sure no other present will beat. My hands are allowed everywhere and I’m sure that my little gasps are worse than a child spotting Santa in the mall for the first time.

“If I don’t get you to bed I’m going to die,” he suddenly declares as my tongue runs the length of him. He grabs my hands and drags me a foot before picking me up. It is a dangerous move but the bedroom is not far and we make it. My back sinks into the comforter and my front is warmed by his body sliding along me. His lips are on my neck, my breasts, my thighs and I close my eyes, arching up in need against him. I have never felt the need for sex so badly in my entire life. This is the type of ache that could drive someone crazy.

His lips are back to my neck and my hands are in his, placed firmly above my head. My legs are wrapped around him and we are kissing madly again, our tongues touching and then darting away in a game of cat and mouse. The game is only paused for a second as he enters me. The sound that rises from my throat is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. His eyes close and he breathes into the crook of my shoulder. The sex is good, but fast. The sound of his breathing fills my ears. I don’t have time to climax before he is done and as he rolls over, his eyes closed, he pulls at me, keeping my body close to his.

My head is swimming. The intensity of this day, the lack of sleep from the night before, and the lack of sleep does me in. I look at him, his face slightly cloudy to my eyes. I’m sure that he has succumbed and is out. I know that I cannot still be in his arms come morning. I cannot still be in this world. I have caused too much trouble. I have relished every minute, but reality will hit me hard.

My thighs still tingle as I gently slide out of his now slack embrace. I cannot stand, but I slide to the floor and manage to gather my tank top and panties. I cannot find my pants and I do not care. I search around more until I find what I really need: my purse. I withdraw a small compact and flip it over, sliding a panel that is naked to the human eye. The digital display makes me want to scream. The harshness of the red makes my head feel like it is being chopped open with an axe. I take my time at typing in the date: June 20, 2014. Before I press activate, I crawl back over to the bed and stare at Brian’s face.

My intent had never been to sleep with him. Or had it? Now that it is fact, I know I can’t answer that question. What I do know is that I would have never guessed that I would have even gotten to meet him let alone... I stretch up on the bed and kiss his lips. I know it will be the last time. He smiles in his sleepy stupor. I sink back down off the bed and onto the floor. I clutch the compact and take a deep breath.

My finger touches ‘activate' and I am gone. The return trip is a blur. I am standing in the dark and I can make out the shadow of a giant bed. My bed. My trip has returned me to my apartment. I crawl in without turning on the lights, salvaging my sensitive corneas and grab at my pillow. I can still smell Brian’s Safari. I close my eyes and inhale. I am asleep. I vaguely sense an extra weight collapsing on my bed, but my brain is too depleted to feel concern.

Morning will come quickly.


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