Miguel

Quick blog update: Of course I decided to start this blog during the busiest season of the year at my workplace. So I'm going to focus on the shorter stories for a bit. I'm itching to get started on some of the longer ones, but I also want to do them justice, and I have to remind myself it all will be told eventually.

So, without further ado: Miguel 

I met Miguel at a holiday party over a winter break from college hosted my my friend Cat. She's a bit of a story in and of herself, actually. She introduced herself after a session of a political science class we shared that she totally fit into and I totally did not. I was a hawaiian shirt wearing idealist who was frequently asked if I was in the right classroom in poli sci classes, and Cat was and still is a blue-eyed, dark blonde, perfect smile, beautiful girl who fit the cable knit sweater wearing preppy look to a T. I was never sure why she was so incredibly friendly, especially in the beginning- it wasn't like either of us was hurting for other friends at the time, and we didn't have much in common. It may have been because she wanted help in class, or some friend crush she could never explain, but we somehow became close friends, our differences becoming things we appreciated about each other. I had never experienced, or really wanted to experience, the classic frat party and bar scene, but Cat insisted I come with her and I had a lot of fun playing the weirdo at the party, and giving her piggyback rides back to wherever we were crashing because she'd be too unsteady on her heels to walk. For her part, she was appreciated my willingness to not give a shit about what others thought about me or my interests and my skills as a wingman, and was fascinated by my open bisexuality. 

Over time, I developed a suspicion that my bisexuality was key to our friendship. Cat identified as straight, and we talked about men constantly, but she also loved hearing about my experiences with women, and cuddling up to me on couches and in bed when we had sleepovers (she wouldn't hear of me sleeping on the floor). I never pushed, and she never acted on it, but my gaydar tingled. For my part, I didn't mind the attention from a lovely girl like herself, and just went with it. We lost touch after graduation, like so many do. I'm not terribly sad about it, nor do I wonder what might have been. I'll always look back on getting to know her as a bit of a mystery, a lovely pleasant one, and wish her the best. I do hope I never forget her white smile, gleaming against her perfect tan. 

So back to that party, hosted at her place with her roommates. Miguel was a friend of hers from childhood (like a little brother, she said) who went to a different school hours away and was staying with them over winter break and working as a seasonal worker at Abercrombie and Fitch. He looked the part of an A&F model diversity pick: absolutely gorgeous.  Brown eyes with flecks of warm amber, long eyelashes, wide white smile against dark smooth skin. And, oh yeah, 6-pack abs, muscle definition like you'd think must have to be photoshopped, and pierced nipples (that I only discovered later, of course). He also smelled like A&F cologne, which was intentional- he'd steal it from work, so he always had some. I'd say he was too preppy and overtly male to be my type, but realistically- beautiful is always my type. 

Meeting him at the party, though, my first impression was that he was a bit much. Loud, brazen, flirtatious with everyone and no one in particular, in his element at a party that I felt out of sorts in. But his friendliness was infectious and his jokes actually funny, and I found myself thinking, 'I could be friends with this frat boy'. 

Eventually the party started to wind down and Cat invited Miguel and I up to her room to go to sleep. She and I got into bed, and Miguel hopped in between us in a way that I found mildly irritating but Cat thought was cute, so that was the sleeping arrangement. Lights out and Cat, having had a bit to drink, fell asleep immediately. 

Lying in the dark, trying to relax and sleep next to a man I had only met hours before, I felt Miguel's arm curl around my waist to hug me in to cuddle. My emotions warred inside me, ranging from 'dude, ew' to 'mmm, sexy man cuddles' in a heartbeat. Eventually, and probably emboldened by some of the alcohol I had imbibed and the good feeling I had about him, I relaxed into being a little spoon. And continued to relax as he started to stroke my hip and I wiggled up against his warm firmness against my back and ass, where I noticed he was starting to become hard. So I wiggled more, and eventually we ended up with his leg in between mine, both of us stroking and enjoying turning each other on. I turned and kissed him for the first time, and was amazed at how pillowy soft his lips were. I also then remembered the fact that Cat was just over there, on the other side of the bed from him. Asleep, yes, but there. 

I indicated my unwillingness to go further with our sleeping friend in bed with us, and Miguel respected that by pulling me out of bed with him and taking me down the hall to the spare bedroom he was using while staying there.  As soon as the door shut, we were pulling off each other's clothes, biting and licking and very soon thereafter, fucking. It was some of the best sex I've ever had with someone during our first time together. Despite the enjoyable newness of his body and excitement of a new partner, we communicated openly about our wants and we each got what we wanted, and it was as good as if we had already done this countless times. We came, rested, and started again. The night was long. 

In the morning, I woke up in his room, disheveled and ready to be embarrassed at myself. But he was so sweet and sexy and appreciative, I could only be dazzled and appreciative right back. When we went downstairs and found Cat making tea in the kitchen and told her I went back to his room with him after she fell asleep, her reaction was to laugh and tease us both. I had to go home to get ready to go to work, but I worked at the same mall that Miguel worked at and we made plans. 

For the rest of winter break, Miguel and I were inseparable. We both knew it was temporary and we didn't have a romantic connection, but our friendship grew along with our knowledge of each other's body. Sex with him was effortless, intense, sensual, uninhibited, and truly equal. I learned he was a feminist and loved Disney movies and high end pajamas.  We walked around the mall on our breaks together talking dirty. Cat wrote both of us off ('you guys have fun, don't hurt each other!') for the remainder of the break. 

At the end of winter break, we parted ways with a long hug full of appreciation and no plans to ever see each other again. He started dating someone soon after he returned to school and I was soon distracted as well. The few weeks we had together were glorious, and over. 

We remained friends on facebook, for whatever that is worth. He moved to China after graduation for a couple years, and I did other things with my life. 

One day, almost 5 years after we first met, he messaged me. 'I'm back in the US, crashing with a friend in your area. Want to go get dinner sometime?' 

I did, actually. I was recently out of a long term relationship and enjoying my freedom, and was curious to catch up. A few days later, we went to a diner and talked about life. He had grown a beard, in China. He had also gotten kidnapped and held for ransom. He was older, wiser, and so was I. 

'How do you feel about a friends-with-benefits sort of thing, like we had before?' I asked, as we were waiting for the check.

'Really? I'd love that, but I had no idea how you'd feel about it. I honestly just wanted to catch up and see a friendly face. I can't say I wasn't hoping that we'd hook up again, but I didn't want to assume. But, if you're asking...'

'Yes, I'm asking.' I said. 

I kissed him in the car and took him home with me. And kissing him was just like I remembered- soft, enjoyable, friendly, open. When we got home, we gravitated immediately to bed, and fucked with that wonderful understanding that we had always shared. Except this time, instead of it feeling like I had known sex with him for years despite it being our first time together, we really did already know each other. I remembered the way his nipple piercings felt under my tongue and how that would make him writhe, and we barely said anything at all to each other because we didn't have to. It was nostalgic and thrilling at the same time. 

He wasn't planning on staying long in the area. He wasn't sure where he wanted to be or what he wanted to do. Like before, our enjoyable friendship was temporary. A few weeks later, he told me he was moving to France. Again when he left, I didn't know if I would ever see him again. We kissed at the train station, like the romantic partners we never were. 

So far,  I haven't seen him again. I know from facebook he's gone back to China. Someday, maybe, if we're in the same place in the world, and the same place in romantic entanglements, we might meet and fuck again. There's something about the idea of Miguel that fills me with comfort, just knowing there is someone out there in the world with whom sex and friendship have always been easy, enjoyable, respectful, and temporary. It's likely we'll never meet again- we've been very lucky so far, and I don't believe fate works that way- but who knows? Whether or not lightning strikes a third time, I'll always remember those weeks with him, 5 years apart.