Another Man, Another Kiss
Roy had been her first, and only. Now, as she moved on top of him she thought of that first time and before it: she had thought he would pressure her before she was ready, but he hadn't, not really. All the long months before that first time they had spent hours in the bed of his parents' truck, with his jacket keeping her warm, and they had kissed and he had touched her and he moved her hand against him. When she had finally whispered, "Yes… now, yes," he had smiled and moved over her, and the sun behind him lit up his hair. It wasn't what she had expected, and it hadn't been so good that first time – she was too nervous, too self-conscious – but she always remembered the sun and his smile and how he had looked into her eyes.
It had been ten years ago, but she remembered that first time now, and she reached over and turned on the light next to their bed. "Open your eyes," she whispered. He did, and when he smiled she touched his face where his dimples were then leaned down to kiss his mouth. Roy took her hips and moved her to his rhythm and it felt good, like it almost always did, but as they kissed she found herself thinking of that night, that crazy night when she had gotten so drunk. She had later acted as though she didn't remember what had happened, but she did, she did, and she thought of it often, especially at times like these. She had planned to just kiss Jim's cheek, but he had looked at her with such joy and when his arms had encircled her she had felt a sudden shock of rightness, so she had kissed his mouth. He had pulled back at first, but she had held on, her arms tight around his neck, and then he was kissing her back, in front of everyone, as though he couldn't stop, as though he didn't care what anyone else thought. He had tasted of beer and salt, and she had wanted the kiss to go on and on and for the rest of that night she had reached up to touch her lips and had remembered the feel of his. At the end of the night, she had almost asked, had been so close to asking him if they could go somewhere together. She wanted more of his kisses, and more, but people were watching and so she stopped herself. He would have said, yes, anywhere, she had seen it in his eyes, but she had stopped herself and now she wondered: what if she had gone home with him? Would she still be here, now, with Roy?
But she hadn't asked him, and now she was here with Roy, moving together with Roy, and Jim was just a friend. But since that night, she would find herself at work watching him, and sometimes she would close her eyes and remember that kiss. She closed her eyes now, and kissed Roy, but thought of another man, another kiss.