This chapter's the first "seriously" R-rated one. The former ones have been strictly for language, whereas this one's for adult content. Not that you're going to listen to me (because I wouldn't even listen to me), but this is the most explicit of any "sex scene" I've ever written. You've been warned.
Also, just because I feel that I'm obligated to mention this, the sex in this chapter is unprotected. In real life, this is seriously dangerous, immature, and stupid. For the sake of this fictional story, however, I've chosen to take that path. The real life repercussions are much more serious than the nonexistent ones in this story.
I know Ross and Rachel might have known each other in high school. I've alluded to it and it'll be discussed in a later chapter. I'm getting to it. Hold your horses.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Ross changed his clothes for the second time into a "more casual" pair of jeans and a navy blue Polo shirt. He gelled it into place, starred at it for a good minute...and then combed it forward messily with his fingers. He braced himself against his dresser and took a deep breath.
"Get ahold of yourself, man. She's not even going to be there."
He was going back to the laundry mat for the first time since his encounter last week. He knew it was unrealistic to just expect her to be there, but it was the same time and the same day, so just maybe he'd get lucky...
"Dude, what the fuck's that smell?" Carver asked, appearing in the doorway with an open box of Captain Crunch in his hand and wiping at the air in front of him.
"It's cologne," Ross informed, adjusting his collar and rolling his eyes. "You should try it sometime."
"You don't still have your panties in a twist over that chick, do you?" his roommate asked pryingly.
"She's not just some chick, Carver," Ross insisted, checking the mirror one last time before grabbing his bag from the bed and moving past his friend in the doorway. "She's...different," he elaborated, pushing past him. Carver followed in pursuit.
"Fine, whatever, she's special. If she's there, though, and you don't get any action, I'm going to stop denying to people that Carol really WAS the gay one."
Ross was surprised that his roommate's distasteful comment hadn't offended him more. For some reason, it just rolled off his back as if he hadn't heard it.
"You're disgusting," Ross called over his shoulder before disappearing from the apartment.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Rachel, get out of the bathroom! I have to crimp my hair!" Erica called, pounding on the wooden door exasperatedly.
"In a minute!" she screamed back, smoothing her shirt over her stomach and brushing a few strands of hair into place. She closed her eyes and silently berated herself for being so lame as to actually think he'd be there again. Her note had probably freaked him out thoroughly enough that he'd switched laundry mats entirely. On the off chance that he was there, though, she had to make an effort to look at least SOMEWHAT presentable (unlike last week). She'd picked out a pair of faded jeans and a black tank top. It wasn't anything special, but with her hair down and a few strategically placed beaded necklaces, she looked pretty hot, if she did say so herself. She took a deep breath and shook her head, regaining control before exiting the bathroom.
"Go nuts," she suggested, as she sauntered past Erica into the living room to grab her things. Erica stood dumbfounded by the bathroom, her mouth agape.
"You slut! You're totally trying to pick this guy up!" she accused, smiling broadly. Rachel grinned to herself and replied in mock innocence.
"Erica, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just going to do my laundry..."
"Something tell me that's not all you're going to be doing," she replied jokingly, smiling deviously before she slipped into the bathroom, curling iron in hand. Rachel shook her head.
"I wish."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Rachel leaned over and pulled the soaked load from the machine to toss it into the drier. She sighed in discontent as she scanned the room for the 5th time in 5 minutes and then checked her watch. It was only 5 minutes past the time she'd arrived last week and she was already panicking. She noticed a guy about her age sitting in the corner. He smiled. She nodded and forced a grin. He was cute...but not who she wanted to see. Just as she about to plop down into her chair to burry her nose in some entertainment magazine's mindless drivel and revel in her defeat, she heard the soft chiming of bells sound as the double glass doors of the store opened and someone entered.
His clean-shaven face and tousled hair fooled her at first, but she couldn't conceal her giddy smile when she realized it was him. The familiar smell of his cologne reached her just after the warmth of his eyes as they locked her hers did, and she was already hooked. Their smiles matched one another and he gravitated towards her.
"Hi," he nearly whispered, drowned in disbelief that she was actually here. She was here. She'd shown up. He hadn't scared her away last week with his sideways glances and innuendo.
"Hey," she sweetly responded, even waving endearingly as he sat down next to her.
They sat like that for almost an entire minute, soaking up the surrealness of the moment. Ross couldn't believe how beautiful she looked. She'd been cute last week, in an awkward, "girl next door" sort of way, but there was nothing awkward about the girl who sat so confidently in front of him now. The top she was wearing revealed a large span of smooth, tanned skin that he hadn't been privy to last week, and her golden brown hair framed her face and flowed over her shoulders. She was hot. There was no other word primitive enough to describe it.
"Wow, you-uh-you look a lot different," he chuckled uncomfortably, resisting reaching out and touching her silky hair. "I almost didn't recognize you." She smiled, proud of the way she'd obviously affected him. He could barely speak.
"You look different, too," she commented, pointing to his hair. "Just roll out of bed?" She asked jokingly.
"Just thought I'd try something different," he smiled goofily, running his hand over it nervously. "No good?"
"No, I just didn't recognize you without all that gel," she threw out, standing to switch clothes from one machine to another again.
"Ouch," he laughed, pressing his hand to his chest and sitting back in his chair. They were falling into a comfortable exchange, now. "You didn't like the gel?"
"I loved the gel," she teased, flirtation now dripping from both of their voices. "So, Mr. Laundry Mat Man, you never told me your name."
"Ah, that's right," he nodded. "I didn't have a conveniently placed nametag, did I?"
"You look familiar," she noted, turning around from her clothes to narrow her eyes in on him and get a closer look at his face. She'd been almost afraid to look directly at him until now. There WAS something unshakable and unnerving, almost, about the familiarly in his eyes. He stared back, his head cocked sideways and his lips twisted in a half smile. He was obviously enjoying watching her watch him.
"Ross," he offered, his voice becoming suddenly shy as he shifted in his chair. Their eyes met again and she smiled and nodded. Ross. It fit him, she deemed. She liked it. It didn't ring a bell, though. "And you're Rachel," he added.
"And I'm Rachel," she repeated, nodding once and smiling as she turned back to her laundry. She felt chills creep up her arms and legs as she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was watching her intently. The silence that had just bestowed itself upon them was deafening in comparison to their chattiness since he'd arrived. She decided to play into it, though, as she leaned over the machine to "reach for something" nonexistent in the bottom.
He watched her as she leaned, narrowing in on her ass and becoming almost entranced. He noticed the way it rounded out perfectly from the gentle, slender curve of her waist, and he could feel his heart begin to pump hot blood faster through his veins as he kept his eyes glued to her. He had never talked to a girl this ridiculously sexy before, and he had never had such an overwhelming desire to be inside a strange girl like this before. The only girl he'd ever had sex with was Carol, and it had taken months for him to work to that part of their relationship. There was something about Rachel, though, and it was not limited to her physical appearance. Effervescence eradiated from her like steam, and it drew him in and then paralyzed him. He had to stop himself when he realized he had been mentally undressing her with his eyes for minutes on end.
"So are you going to use a machine?" she asked, surprising him.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I was getting to that," he replied, standing up and walking with his bag over to the machine beside hers. He dumped the clothes in and walked around her for the detergent.
"So what do you do?" she asked, pretending to be uninterested as she folded clothes from the drier. In actuality, she'd been wondering these things about him for 7 days.
"I work at a museum," he answered matter-of-factly.
"Oh, like a curator?"
"More like a Paleontologist," he corrected.
"Oh, um, sounds..."
"Boring?"
"No!" she insisted. "Well...yeah, kind of." He smiled and nodded.
"It's okay. Most people think so. What do you do?"
"I'm in fashion. I work at the Prada headquarters uptown."
"Hmm," he considered. "I don't think those two fields could be anymore dissimilar."
"No, probably not," she agreed, nodding and giggling. "That's okay. Yours sounds really hard. I bet you have to be really smart," she wagered, turning to look at how he'd take this inadvertent compliment. He glanced peripherally at her and beamed bashfully.
"Eh," he shrugged, "I guess that's what you get for wasting 6 years in college." He could only wait for his clothes to be done so he just leaned idly against the machine beside her. She lifted herself up and sat cross-legged atop it, facing him.
"Six years? Wow. When did you finish?"
"A few months ago. I just got the job out of luck. I thought I'd have to move back home to Long Island to find work."
"Get out! I'm from Long Island, too!"
"Seriously?" he asked, intrigued. Surely he would have remembered this girl if she'd gone to his school. Maybe she was a few years younger than him. He'd have to conjure up a tactful way of finding out. "Well you're much too pretty to be out of college. You were probably a few years behind me." Score. Nicely done.
"That was smooth," she called him out on the line, nodding and smiling.
"You liked that, did you?" he played along.
"Yeah, but you're a few years off. I graduated almost 3 year ago."
"So you're...24?"
"Oh, don't say it," she cringed. "It makes me feel old." She wiggled as if in attempt to shed the years from herself and shook her head. He became very serious suddenly and grabbed a hold of her stare. This girl didn't look a day past 20. She starred back with equal fervor and they let the moment wash over him. Her breath started coming in quicker gasps just by locking eyes with him and she shivered slightly.
"Are you cold?" he asked, changing subjects. Before she could even answer, he'd shed his Polo shirt down to revealed a white shirt underneath. He handed the navy one to her and she smiled.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice even smaller and softer than before. He nodded.
"If you don't mind me asking," he ventured, hesitating before wandering into more dangerous, personal territory, "is there a reason why you're here by yourself on weekend nights?" She bit her lip nervously and shrugged, holding his gaze.
"Is there a reason you are?"
"Fair enough," he nodded. "I, uh...I guess it's better than staying at home and waiting for my roommate to come back from his dates."
"Wow, I think we're the same person," she joked, actually laughing aloud.
"Aw, come on, you're telling me you can't get dates?" he asked in disbelief. She shrugged against and looked down. A chord had obviously been struck. He immediately regretted his wording.
"Oh, hey, no, that's not what I-"
"No, I know," she looked up, smiling in reassurance. "It's just, um...it's more complicated than that, I guess."
"Most things are."
Her heart melted a little from the sincerity and earnestness of his last statement. When he'd said it, his eyes had locked so compassionately and understandingly with hers. She loved looking into this boy's eyes. They captivated her like nothing else ever had.
"Hey, listen," he broke the silence. "Do you maybe want to get some coffee or something?"
She smiled at the shyness and boyishness in his tone. It was apparent from his intonation that he'd been nervously anticipating rejection, but what he got was quite the opposite.
"I'd like that," she nodded. "Just let me get my things." She hopped down off the machine, removing the remainder of her belongings from the drier and stuffing them haphazardly into her duffle bag.
As they walked out the door, he didn't resist the urge to place his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the door. His fingers brushed against the soft skin just above the waistband of her pant, conducing hot bolts of lightning from her body to his.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The dimly lit cafe they chose was only a block away, tucked away into a narrow, cobblestone sides street, away from the rest of the city. Ross paid for a caramel apple cider for her and a tall cappuccino for himself and picked out a table by the window. They watched the multicolored leaves collecting and rustling on the ground outside from the trees lining the street and sat in silence for a few minutes.
"So tell me about yourself," he finally declared, before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Do we have time for this?" she joked.
"I do," he stated rather seriously, smiling and staring intensely at her again. She smiled and shrugged.
"Okay, well, I'm 24 and I'm from Long Island. I went to Parsons for 4 years and majored in Fashion Marketing. Um...I've lived with my neurotic roommate Erica about 5 blocks from here since I graduated..." she searched for ways to make her bland life sound more compelling, but was falling short. She was relieved to look up and see him somehow still hanging on her every word. He chuckled after a moment of silence.
"What?" she asked curiously.
"No, it's nothing," he brushed it off. "It's just that, um...I've been wondering all of those things about you since I first saw you...and now I know. It's just a little...hmm...weird, I guess."
"You've been wondering about me?" she asked, surprised and intrigued and flattered, all at once.
"Well...yeah," he revealed. "Is that okay?" he asked hopefully, sounding so endearingly adorable that her heart breaking was visible across her face. Oh wow, she thought. Is this guy for real? It's not possible to be this cute.
"It's okay," she nodded. "What about you? You're just going to leave me to wonder?"
"Oh, I'm boring," he chuckled. "Let's see. Well, I'm 25, I just finished grad school at NYU last spring, I live on the other side of the Village with my roommate Carver, and..." he trailed off, considering whether or not he should finish the way he really wanted to. She looked as if she were waiting. "...and I'm having coffee with the most breathtakingly gorgeous girl I've ever seen."
She was stunned speechless. No guy had ever said anything like that to her before. She felt a welling up inside her-- a pressure-- that was all-encompassing. It started at her center and radiated to every tip of her body. Her head literally spun. Throwing caution to the wind, she reached out and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.
"Ross?" she almost whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to do something right now, okay?" Pause. Swallow. "And it's totally out of character for me, and I'm not sure if I'll regret it or not...but I know I will if I don't." He nodded, not daring to peal his eyes from her. "So just let me do it, okay?"
"Okay."
With the most gentle care, she leaned in and placed the slowest, most provocative, breathtaking kiss against his lips either of them had ever experienced. It lasted for only a few fleeting seconds, and then she pulled away.
Rachel opened her eyes to find Ross' still closed, his mouth still slightly opened, and his head still cocked to the side. She smiled and blushed, wiping the corner of her mouth self-consciously. When he was finally done savoring the kiss to open his eyes, he saw her wide-eyed and anticipatory starring back at him.
"Was that okay?" she asked, repeating the question he'd asked just minutes before. He had to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of the question. Instead, he answered simply and honestly.
"That was okay," he nodded, smiling. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair from in front of her eyes. He swallowed deeply. This was insane. He'd never done anything like this before. It had taken him weeks to even admit to Carol that he'd liked her. Then, several more after that to muster up the courage to ask her out, and a few more after that to kiss her. Something in Rachel heightened all of those senses, though, and stirred something inside him. He shook his head a little to assure himself he wasn't dreaming.
"It's getting kind of late," she pointed out. He looked out the window and nodded.
"I'll walk you home."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The two walked in almost complete silence the 15 minutes back to Rachel's apartment. Looking down at the ground in front of them, they laced fingers and wrapped themselves inside a surreal reverie. Neither could explain or account for whatever this was, but it was equally difficult for them to even let the other's hand go when they arrived at her stoop.
"This is a nice place," he complimented, looking the building up and down and stuffing his hands inside his pockets nervously. It was getting colder and he was just noticing that she'd been wearing his Polo shirt this whole time. You could see their breaths mix in the air between them.
"Thanks. Do you want your shirt back?"
"No, it's okay." He put his hands up as if to push her offering away. "You can keep it for a little while." She smiled and nodded, looking down, once again, at the ground. She looked back up after a moment.
She felt a compulsion deep inside her that she was fighting off with every logical fiber of her being. Her brain was battling it out with her heart and gut, but it was rapidly losing control as she noticed the way his smile lingered long after he meant for it to and the way he rocked back and forth more nervously the closer he got to her. These were bad thoughts she was having. She knew she shouldn't do it.
"Do you want to come up?" she spoke softly, looking up hopefully and innocently at him. It didn't matter that she shouldn't. She couldn't help it. She couldn't explain it.
"Really?" he asked, a little too eagerly. He flinched at his own rudeness. "I mean...really?" he asked again, this time a little more subtly and coolly. She laughed at his uneasiness. She soon afterwards reached out for his hand and clasped it, though, and nodded as she lead him up the stairs.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Their mouths were smothering the other's before her key even hit the lock. Somehow, Rachel managed to infiltrate the door and make it to the other side with Ross clawing clumsily and eagerly at her shirt and pressing himself against her. She silently thanked God that Erica was not there. She didn't bother with the light switch. She didn't even remember it.
With the door closed, the two dropped their respective bags at the door and reveled in the newfound use of both hands. Immediately, her arms went around his neck and her hands into his hair, scratching his scalp and rubbing the back of his neck. He moaned into her mouth as he groped at her ass, cupping it and squeezing it firmly with both hands as he pushed his erection hard into her stomach. Before she knew it, he'd lifted her up into his arms and she'd wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He pushed her harder up against the door as he left her mouth momentarily to bite and lick her neck.
"Bedroom," he groaned commandingly, implicitly asking for her direction. She grabbed two handfuls of his hair and urged on his kisses as she murmured something about 'upstairs'.
He somehow made it up the flight of steps with her still clinging securely to him. He kicked open her door and slammed it behind him with a single foot before throwing her onto the bed. He wasted no time, pouncing on her immediately without turning on a light or even giving thought as to where he was or what his surroundings were. He tore at her clothes, nearly ripping her shirt and the zipper from her jeans as he removed them. She was naked beneath him quicker than either of them had thought possible, but thankfully so.
He couldn't see straight, he was so disoriented and drunk on her. Even her saliva tasted and felt sweet. The room spun around them and his head felt heavy, but he disregarded it all to concentrate on the woman whose legs he was cradled so securely between. She pulled the white t-shirt from his torso and was still working on his belt when he lost control and slid two fingers inside her.
"Ahhh," she yelped, surprised at the simultaneously pleasure and pain of his harsh thrusts. Everything was hard and fast and sloppy and primal and exactly what both of them wanted and needed. She gritted her teeth and sucked in short gasps of air, moaning his name and groaning as he pushed his fingers more rapidly in and out of her. She whispered in his ear for more, biting and licking him there, spreading her legs further apart to accommodate both his body and his hand, and grasping and clawing at his back with her fingernails.
By the time he stopped, she had him completely undressed, turning them over so he was on his back beneath her. He gripped her waist and back and ass and thighs and hair...anything that belonged to her. It all felt equally better than he thought anything ever could. He couldn't see very well through the thick bleakness of the room, but he had some vague idea of her bracing her arms against the headboard that his back was now against. They were sitting up, her straddling him and panting into his ear.
"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked, and even she hadn't known where it came from. She rocked against him, feeling his dick pressed against her thigh and knowing it was only inches away from happening ff both of them wanted to proceed.
"Yes," he moaned back. "Yes, ever since I saw you, yes," he continued, rubbing his hands tenderly up and down her back. It was the first real act of emotion or sentiment either had committed since all of this had begun. "Do you want me to?" he asked.
"Yes," she assured him, nodding and running her hands through his hair. "Yes," one more time, before she began kissing him passionately again. With this affirmation, it was on.
She lifted up just enough to allow him to position herself beneath her and then, with him pushing down on her waist firmly, she sat down and groaned loudly as he entered her. From the noise she'd made, he honestly thought he'd hurt her. This realization was sobering and he stopped the fierce neediness of their actions to look through the darkness into her eyes.
"Are you okay?" he managed to ask. He'd wanted to sound more concerned, but he was still inside her and he was only human. She nodded and let out a loud puff of air.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm okay. Just keep going."
She didn't have to ask him twice. She pushed down as he pushed up, meeting each other in the middle and moaning and gasping with his quickened drive. Their tongues danced around each other and their hands roamed each other's bodies, clawing desperately for anything to hold onto.
"Tell me," she begged, her moans getting louder as she hugged him tightly to her body now.
"Soon," was all he could manage before he let out a final holler and collapsed back against the headboard.
She fell against his chest, both breathing impossibly heavily. It hadn't lasted long, but that had been expected, consider how long it had been for both of them. He swallowed and wiped the sweat from his face, looking down to see the top of her head. Her hair was still feathery and smelled like cocoanut. He smiled at the epiphany of what had just happened.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his chest still heaving. He ran his fingers up and down her back and pulled the covers more securely over them. She just nodded and placed her hands on his sides, stroking lightly up and down. He kissed the top of her head and cuddled her closely to him, burrowing her beside him and wrapping both arms tightly around her.
"Will you stay?" she asked. He couldn't believe that she thought she even had to.
"Until you make me go," he answered. He could feel her smile against his chest.
"Has this ever happened to you before?" she asked.
"I don't think this has ever happened to anybody before," he noted. He was probably right. She nodded in agreement. They fell asleep only minutes afterwards, both exhausted and spent and wasted on one another.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
End Chapter 3. Continued in Chapter 4.
Also, just because I feel that I'm obligated to mention this, the sex in this chapter is unprotected. In real life, this is seriously dangerous, immature, and stupid. For the sake of this fictional story, however, I've chosen to take that path. The real life repercussions are much more serious than the nonexistent ones in this story.
I know Ross and Rachel might have known each other in high school. I've alluded to it and it'll be discussed in a later chapter. I'm getting to it. Hold your horses.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Ross changed his clothes for the second time into a "more casual" pair of jeans and a navy blue Polo shirt. He gelled it into place, starred at it for a good minute...and then combed it forward messily with his fingers. He braced himself against his dresser and took a deep breath.
"Get ahold of yourself, man. She's not even going to be there."
He was going back to the laundry mat for the first time since his encounter last week. He knew it was unrealistic to just expect her to be there, but it was the same time and the same day, so just maybe he'd get lucky...
"Dude, what the fuck's that smell?" Carver asked, appearing in the doorway with an open box of Captain Crunch in his hand and wiping at the air in front of him.
"It's cologne," Ross informed, adjusting his collar and rolling his eyes. "You should try it sometime."
"You don't still have your panties in a twist over that chick, do you?" his roommate asked pryingly.
"She's not just some chick, Carver," Ross insisted, checking the mirror one last time before grabbing his bag from the bed and moving past his friend in the doorway. "She's...different," he elaborated, pushing past him. Carver followed in pursuit.
"Fine, whatever, she's special. If she's there, though, and you don't get any action, I'm going to stop denying to people that Carol really WAS the gay one."
Ross was surprised that his roommate's distasteful comment hadn't offended him more. For some reason, it just rolled off his back as if he hadn't heard it.
"You're disgusting," Ross called over his shoulder before disappearing from the apartment.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Rachel, get out of the bathroom! I have to crimp my hair!" Erica called, pounding on the wooden door exasperatedly.
"In a minute!" she screamed back, smoothing her shirt over her stomach and brushing a few strands of hair into place. She closed her eyes and silently berated herself for being so lame as to actually think he'd be there again. Her note had probably freaked him out thoroughly enough that he'd switched laundry mats entirely. On the off chance that he was there, though, she had to make an effort to look at least SOMEWHAT presentable (unlike last week). She'd picked out a pair of faded jeans and a black tank top. It wasn't anything special, but with her hair down and a few strategically placed beaded necklaces, she looked pretty hot, if she did say so herself. She took a deep breath and shook her head, regaining control before exiting the bathroom.
"Go nuts," she suggested, as she sauntered past Erica into the living room to grab her things. Erica stood dumbfounded by the bathroom, her mouth agape.
"You slut! You're totally trying to pick this guy up!" she accused, smiling broadly. Rachel grinned to herself and replied in mock innocence.
"Erica, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just going to do my laundry..."
"Something tell me that's not all you're going to be doing," she replied jokingly, smiling deviously before she slipped into the bathroom, curling iron in hand. Rachel shook her head.
"I wish."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Rachel leaned over and pulled the soaked load from the machine to toss it into the drier. She sighed in discontent as she scanned the room for the 5th time in 5 minutes and then checked her watch. It was only 5 minutes past the time she'd arrived last week and she was already panicking. She noticed a guy about her age sitting in the corner. He smiled. She nodded and forced a grin. He was cute...but not who she wanted to see. Just as she about to plop down into her chair to burry her nose in some entertainment magazine's mindless drivel and revel in her defeat, she heard the soft chiming of bells sound as the double glass doors of the store opened and someone entered.
His clean-shaven face and tousled hair fooled her at first, but she couldn't conceal her giddy smile when she realized it was him. The familiar smell of his cologne reached her just after the warmth of his eyes as they locked her hers did, and she was already hooked. Their smiles matched one another and he gravitated towards her.
"Hi," he nearly whispered, drowned in disbelief that she was actually here. She was here. She'd shown up. He hadn't scared her away last week with his sideways glances and innuendo.
"Hey," she sweetly responded, even waving endearingly as he sat down next to her.
They sat like that for almost an entire minute, soaking up the surrealness of the moment. Ross couldn't believe how beautiful she looked. She'd been cute last week, in an awkward, "girl next door" sort of way, but there was nothing awkward about the girl who sat so confidently in front of him now. The top she was wearing revealed a large span of smooth, tanned skin that he hadn't been privy to last week, and her golden brown hair framed her face and flowed over her shoulders. She was hot. There was no other word primitive enough to describe it.
"Wow, you-uh-you look a lot different," he chuckled uncomfortably, resisting reaching out and touching her silky hair. "I almost didn't recognize you." She smiled, proud of the way she'd obviously affected him. He could barely speak.
"You look different, too," she commented, pointing to his hair. "Just roll out of bed?" She asked jokingly.
"Just thought I'd try something different," he smiled goofily, running his hand over it nervously. "No good?"
"No, I just didn't recognize you without all that gel," she threw out, standing to switch clothes from one machine to another again.
"Ouch," he laughed, pressing his hand to his chest and sitting back in his chair. They were falling into a comfortable exchange, now. "You didn't like the gel?"
"I loved the gel," she teased, flirtation now dripping from both of their voices. "So, Mr. Laundry Mat Man, you never told me your name."
"Ah, that's right," he nodded. "I didn't have a conveniently placed nametag, did I?"
"You look familiar," she noted, turning around from her clothes to narrow her eyes in on him and get a closer look at his face. She'd been almost afraid to look directly at him until now. There WAS something unshakable and unnerving, almost, about the familiarly in his eyes. He stared back, his head cocked sideways and his lips twisted in a half smile. He was obviously enjoying watching her watch him.
"Ross," he offered, his voice becoming suddenly shy as he shifted in his chair. Their eyes met again and she smiled and nodded. Ross. It fit him, she deemed. She liked it. It didn't ring a bell, though. "And you're Rachel," he added.
"And I'm Rachel," she repeated, nodding once and smiling as she turned back to her laundry. She felt chills creep up her arms and legs as she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was watching her intently. The silence that had just bestowed itself upon them was deafening in comparison to their chattiness since he'd arrived. She decided to play into it, though, as she leaned over the machine to "reach for something" nonexistent in the bottom.
He watched her as she leaned, narrowing in on her ass and becoming almost entranced. He noticed the way it rounded out perfectly from the gentle, slender curve of her waist, and he could feel his heart begin to pump hot blood faster through his veins as he kept his eyes glued to her. He had never talked to a girl this ridiculously sexy before, and he had never had such an overwhelming desire to be inside a strange girl like this before. The only girl he'd ever had sex with was Carol, and it had taken months for him to work to that part of their relationship. There was something about Rachel, though, and it was not limited to her physical appearance. Effervescence eradiated from her like steam, and it drew him in and then paralyzed him. He had to stop himself when he realized he had been mentally undressing her with his eyes for minutes on end.
"So are you going to use a machine?" she asked, surprising him.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I was getting to that," he replied, standing up and walking with his bag over to the machine beside hers. He dumped the clothes in and walked around her for the detergent.
"So what do you do?" she asked, pretending to be uninterested as she folded clothes from the drier. In actuality, she'd been wondering these things about him for 7 days.
"I work at a museum," he answered matter-of-factly.
"Oh, like a curator?"
"More like a Paleontologist," he corrected.
"Oh, um, sounds..."
"Boring?"
"No!" she insisted. "Well...yeah, kind of." He smiled and nodded.
"It's okay. Most people think so. What do you do?"
"I'm in fashion. I work at the Prada headquarters uptown."
"Hmm," he considered. "I don't think those two fields could be anymore dissimilar."
"No, probably not," she agreed, nodding and giggling. "That's okay. Yours sounds really hard. I bet you have to be really smart," she wagered, turning to look at how he'd take this inadvertent compliment. He glanced peripherally at her and beamed bashfully.
"Eh," he shrugged, "I guess that's what you get for wasting 6 years in college." He could only wait for his clothes to be done so he just leaned idly against the machine beside her. She lifted herself up and sat cross-legged atop it, facing him.
"Six years? Wow. When did you finish?"
"A few months ago. I just got the job out of luck. I thought I'd have to move back home to Long Island to find work."
"Get out! I'm from Long Island, too!"
"Seriously?" he asked, intrigued. Surely he would have remembered this girl if she'd gone to his school. Maybe she was a few years younger than him. He'd have to conjure up a tactful way of finding out. "Well you're much too pretty to be out of college. You were probably a few years behind me." Score. Nicely done.
"That was smooth," she called him out on the line, nodding and smiling.
"You liked that, did you?" he played along.
"Yeah, but you're a few years off. I graduated almost 3 year ago."
"So you're...24?"
"Oh, don't say it," she cringed. "It makes me feel old." She wiggled as if in attempt to shed the years from herself and shook her head. He became very serious suddenly and grabbed a hold of her stare. This girl didn't look a day past 20. She starred back with equal fervor and they let the moment wash over him. Her breath started coming in quicker gasps just by locking eyes with him and she shivered slightly.
"Are you cold?" he asked, changing subjects. Before she could even answer, he'd shed his Polo shirt down to revealed a white shirt underneath. He handed the navy one to her and she smiled.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice even smaller and softer than before. He nodded.
"If you don't mind me asking," he ventured, hesitating before wandering into more dangerous, personal territory, "is there a reason why you're here by yourself on weekend nights?" She bit her lip nervously and shrugged, holding his gaze.
"Is there a reason you are?"
"Fair enough," he nodded. "I, uh...I guess it's better than staying at home and waiting for my roommate to come back from his dates."
"Wow, I think we're the same person," she joked, actually laughing aloud.
"Aw, come on, you're telling me you can't get dates?" he asked in disbelief. She shrugged against and looked down. A chord had obviously been struck. He immediately regretted his wording.
"Oh, hey, no, that's not what I-"
"No, I know," she looked up, smiling in reassurance. "It's just, um...it's more complicated than that, I guess."
"Most things are."
Her heart melted a little from the sincerity and earnestness of his last statement. When he'd said it, his eyes had locked so compassionately and understandingly with hers. She loved looking into this boy's eyes. They captivated her like nothing else ever had.
"Hey, listen," he broke the silence. "Do you maybe want to get some coffee or something?"
She smiled at the shyness and boyishness in his tone. It was apparent from his intonation that he'd been nervously anticipating rejection, but what he got was quite the opposite.
"I'd like that," she nodded. "Just let me get my things." She hopped down off the machine, removing the remainder of her belongings from the drier and stuffing them haphazardly into her duffle bag.
As they walked out the door, he didn't resist the urge to place his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the door. His fingers brushed against the soft skin just above the waistband of her pant, conducing hot bolts of lightning from her body to his.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The dimly lit cafe they chose was only a block away, tucked away into a narrow, cobblestone sides street, away from the rest of the city. Ross paid for a caramel apple cider for her and a tall cappuccino for himself and picked out a table by the window. They watched the multicolored leaves collecting and rustling on the ground outside from the trees lining the street and sat in silence for a few minutes.
"So tell me about yourself," he finally declared, before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Do we have time for this?" she joked.
"I do," he stated rather seriously, smiling and staring intensely at her again. She smiled and shrugged.
"Okay, well, I'm 24 and I'm from Long Island. I went to Parsons for 4 years and majored in Fashion Marketing. Um...I've lived with my neurotic roommate Erica about 5 blocks from here since I graduated..." she searched for ways to make her bland life sound more compelling, but was falling short. She was relieved to look up and see him somehow still hanging on her every word. He chuckled after a moment of silence.
"What?" she asked curiously.
"No, it's nothing," he brushed it off. "It's just that, um...I've been wondering all of those things about you since I first saw you...and now I know. It's just a little...hmm...weird, I guess."
"You've been wondering about me?" she asked, surprised and intrigued and flattered, all at once.
"Well...yeah," he revealed. "Is that okay?" he asked hopefully, sounding so endearingly adorable that her heart breaking was visible across her face. Oh wow, she thought. Is this guy for real? It's not possible to be this cute.
"It's okay," she nodded. "What about you? You're just going to leave me to wonder?"
"Oh, I'm boring," he chuckled. "Let's see. Well, I'm 25, I just finished grad school at NYU last spring, I live on the other side of the Village with my roommate Carver, and..." he trailed off, considering whether or not he should finish the way he really wanted to. She looked as if she were waiting. "...and I'm having coffee with the most breathtakingly gorgeous girl I've ever seen."
She was stunned speechless. No guy had ever said anything like that to her before. She felt a welling up inside her-- a pressure-- that was all-encompassing. It started at her center and radiated to every tip of her body. Her head literally spun. Throwing caution to the wind, she reached out and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.
"Ross?" she almost whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to do something right now, okay?" Pause. Swallow. "And it's totally out of character for me, and I'm not sure if I'll regret it or not...but I know I will if I don't." He nodded, not daring to peal his eyes from her. "So just let me do it, okay?"
"Okay."
With the most gentle care, she leaned in and placed the slowest, most provocative, breathtaking kiss against his lips either of them had ever experienced. It lasted for only a few fleeting seconds, and then she pulled away.
Rachel opened her eyes to find Ross' still closed, his mouth still slightly opened, and his head still cocked to the side. She smiled and blushed, wiping the corner of her mouth self-consciously. When he was finally done savoring the kiss to open his eyes, he saw her wide-eyed and anticipatory starring back at him.
"Was that okay?" she asked, repeating the question he'd asked just minutes before. He had to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of the question. Instead, he answered simply and honestly.
"That was okay," he nodded, smiling. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair from in front of her eyes. He swallowed deeply. This was insane. He'd never done anything like this before. It had taken him weeks to even admit to Carol that he'd liked her. Then, several more after that to muster up the courage to ask her out, and a few more after that to kiss her. Something in Rachel heightened all of those senses, though, and stirred something inside him. He shook his head a little to assure himself he wasn't dreaming.
"It's getting kind of late," she pointed out. He looked out the window and nodded.
"I'll walk you home."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The two walked in almost complete silence the 15 minutes back to Rachel's apartment. Looking down at the ground in front of them, they laced fingers and wrapped themselves inside a surreal reverie. Neither could explain or account for whatever this was, but it was equally difficult for them to even let the other's hand go when they arrived at her stoop.
"This is a nice place," he complimented, looking the building up and down and stuffing his hands inside his pockets nervously. It was getting colder and he was just noticing that she'd been wearing his Polo shirt this whole time. You could see their breaths mix in the air between them.
"Thanks. Do you want your shirt back?"
"No, it's okay." He put his hands up as if to push her offering away. "You can keep it for a little while." She smiled and nodded, looking down, once again, at the ground. She looked back up after a moment.
She felt a compulsion deep inside her that she was fighting off with every logical fiber of her being. Her brain was battling it out with her heart and gut, but it was rapidly losing control as she noticed the way his smile lingered long after he meant for it to and the way he rocked back and forth more nervously the closer he got to her. These were bad thoughts she was having. She knew she shouldn't do it.
"Do you want to come up?" she spoke softly, looking up hopefully and innocently at him. It didn't matter that she shouldn't. She couldn't help it. She couldn't explain it.
"Really?" he asked, a little too eagerly. He flinched at his own rudeness. "I mean...really?" he asked again, this time a little more subtly and coolly. She laughed at his uneasiness. She soon afterwards reached out for his hand and clasped it, though, and nodded as she lead him up the stairs.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Their mouths were smothering the other's before her key even hit the lock. Somehow, Rachel managed to infiltrate the door and make it to the other side with Ross clawing clumsily and eagerly at her shirt and pressing himself against her. She silently thanked God that Erica was not there. She didn't bother with the light switch. She didn't even remember it.
With the door closed, the two dropped their respective bags at the door and reveled in the newfound use of both hands. Immediately, her arms went around his neck and her hands into his hair, scratching his scalp and rubbing the back of his neck. He moaned into her mouth as he groped at her ass, cupping it and squeezing it firmly with both hands as he pushed his erection hard into her stomach. Before she knew it, he'd lifted her up into his arms and she'd wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He pushed her harder up against the door as he left her mouth momentarily to bite and lick her neck.
"Bedroom," he groaned commandingly, implicitly asking for her direction. She grabbed two handfuls of his hair and urged on his kisses as she murmured something about 'upstairs'.
He somehow made it up the flight of steps with her still clinging securely to him. He kicked open her door and slammed it behind him with a single foot before throwing her onto the bed. He wasted no time, pouncing on her immediately without turning on a light or even giving thought as to where he was or what his surroundings were. He tore at her clothes, nearly ripping her shirt and the zipper from her jeans as he removed them. She was naked beneath him quicker than either of them had thought possible, but thankfully so.
He couldn't see straight, he was so disoriented and drunk on her. Even her saliva tasted and felt sweet. The room spun around them and his head felt heavy, but he disregarded it all to concentrate on the woman whose legs he was cradled so securely between. She pulled the white t-shirt from his torso and was still working on his belt when he lost control and slid two fingers inside her.
"Ahhh," she yelped, surprised at the simultaneously pleasure and pain of his harsh thrusts. Everything was hard and fast and sloppy and primal and exactly what both of them wanted and needed. She gritted her teeth and sucked in short gasps of air, moaning his name and groaning as he pushed his fingers more rapidly in and out of her. She whispered in his ear for more, biting and licking him there, spreading her legs further apart to accommodate both his body and his hand, and grasping and clawing at his back with her fingernails.
By the time he stopped, she had him completely undressed, turning them over so he was on his back beneath her. He gripped her waist and back and ass and thighs and hair...anything that belonged to her. It all felt equally better than he thought anything ever could. He couldn't see very well through the thick bleakness of the room, but he had some vague idea of her bracing her arms against the headboard that his back was now against. They were sitting up, her straddling him and panting into his ear.
"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked, and even she hadn't known where it came from. She rocked against him, feeling his dick pressed against her thigh and knowing it was only inches away from happening ff both of them wanted to proceed.
"Yes," he moaned back. "Yes, ever since I saw you, yes," he continued, rubbing his hands tenderly up and down her back. It was the first real act of emotion or sentiment either had committed since all of this had begun. "Do you want me to?" he asked.
"Yes," she assured him, nodding and running her hands through his hair. "Yes," one more time, before she began kissing him passionately again. With this affirmation, it was on.
She lifted up just enough to allow him to position herself beneath her and then, with him pushing down on her waist firmly, she sat down and groaned loudly as he entered her. From the noise she'd made, he honestly thought he'd hurt her. This realization was sobering and he stopped the fierce neediness of their actions to look through the darkness into her eyes.
"Are you okay?" he managed to ask. He'd wanted to sound more concerned, but he was still inside her and he was only human. She nodded and let out a loud puff of air.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm okay. Just keep going."
She didn't have to ask him twice. She pushed down as he pushed up, meeting each other in the middle and moaning and gasping with his quickened drive. Their tongues danced around each other and their hands roamed each other's bodies, clawing desperately for anything to hold onto.
"Tell me," she begged, her moans getting louder as she hugged him tightly to her body now.
"Soon," was all he could manage before he let out a final holler and collapsed back against the headboard.
She fell against his chest, both breathing impossibly heavily. It hadn't lasted long, but that had been expected, consider how long it had been for both of them. He swallowed and wiped the sweat from his face, looking down to see the top of her head. Her hair was still feathery and smelled like cocoanut. He smiled at the epiphany of what had just happened.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his chest still heaving. He ran his fingers up and down her back and pulled the covers more securely over them. She just nodded and placed her hands on his sides, stroking lightly up and down. He kissed the top of her head and cuddled her closely to him, burrowing her beside him and wrapping both arms tightly around her.
"Will you stay?" she asked. He couldn't believe that she thought she even had to.
"Until you make me go," he answered. He could feel her smile against his chest.
"Has this ever happened to you before?" she asked.
"I don't think this has ever happened to anybody before," he noted. He was probably right. She nodded in agreement. They fell asleep only minutes afterwards, both exhausted and spent and wasted on one another.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
End Chapter 3. Continued in Chapter 4.