I usually expect people to know what they’re doing. If I am required to instruct I figure I may as well do it myself.

Out of the way. I’ll do this.

If I must explain, I don’t want to sit there and talk at length about it. My brain and the structure of my thoughts doesn’t allow me. I mean, you read the way I write. It’s goddamn jumbles. I start at the end and skip to the beginning then pause in the middle to explain about the end. This, I suspect, is why I appreciate short stories. I start in the middle of something and there really is no end. It started before me and it’s going to continue after I’m finished. I know what might happen but I don’t know how to verbalize it, nor do I want to.

I once arrived at home to find that Kelly was still there after I’d left her in my bed in the morning. She’d hung out and rifled through my odds and ends. It bugged her that I’d locked my computer when I live alone.

“Hey,” I said, honestly surprised.

“Hey.”

I leaned in to kiss her where she laid beneath the covers. “Been here all day?”

“Yup. I didn’t have to work and didn’t want to go home.”

It bothered me, to be honest. We’d just started dating. I didn’t expect that the first woman I’d have at my place would be her and it just bothered me.

“Hm. Hungry?”

“Hm, yes.” She rubbed the denim that clung to my thigh. She loved my thighs.

I softened up. My voice deepened as it is wont to do.

“We can go out. Later.”

“What about now?”

All sorts of things ran through my mind. At the top of my list was how much I loved her eyes when she smiled. She was young and took great care of herself, aesthetically speaking. Soft skin. She had no laugh lines but God, I wish she did purely for my own pleasure. She had the covers up to her neck. Her hair was pressed down beneath her head on the pillow.

“Your eyes are amazing.” Whether I’ve been blessed with beautifully eyed women in my life or just viewed them as reflections of everything I cared about in them, I don’t know.

She started to scoot the covers down and I stopped her.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Just think of me,” I told her. “Think of how much I want you right now.”

“Want me?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

This baiting was, of course, maddening. And I hated baiting, but being that I was being equally manipulative I could not protest. I wasn’t even thinking about it on a conscious level. But I didn’t want to have to speak. I didn’t want to say a damn thing.

“Just as you are,” I said. “Just as you are right now in my bed.”

I moved my hand along the shadow of her thigh and stopped. I wanted to take over and take action. The thought of talking wore on me.

“Touch yourself,” I told her.

She parted her legs and began. I sat by and watched her face. I watched her eyes. Her breathing grew heavy and mine probably did as well, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about fucking her, which I did in due and wanton course, but in the meantime I simply watched her face. Her nose crinkled in such a beautiful way that I wanted to kiss her.

She parted her lips as if to speak but I pressed my hand over her mouth. Neither of us needed to say anything.