Apple Pie

We have been dating for three months now. We have gotten into this poor habit of celebrating our "month" anniversary. A term I highly dislike due to the fact that anniversary implies a year. We have both been hurt before. We planned futures that would never come to pass, so maybe it was just our way of grasping onto the moments that lay before us.

I had her roommate let me in while she was at her night class. That only took bribing her with food she would inevitably consume to quell the stomach pains after a night of drinking. I decided tonight I would make her dinner. I remember a story she told me of her mom taking her for steaks and apple pie when she wasn't feeling well. Most people assume a romantic gesture needs to be elaborate or expensive. They often forget about the heartfelt part. That's what I wanted to give her. Something heartfelt. I wanted to show her that every effort counts with me. Details matter.

I hear footsteps outside of the door. I look at the digital clock on the stove that is missing a few lines and read 7:53.

"Fuck! She's early!" I let slip out being caught by surprise. I texted her to come home and get ready. She thinks we are going out to dinner at 8:30.

One last check. The table is set. The wine is in ice and sitting next to the single white rose in a water bottle because she doesn't have any vases.

The keys jingle and I hear the lock unlatch. I am nervous.

"Tracy, have you been watching Food Network?" She asks, her voice like honey coating my ears. Everything seems so much sweeter now that she's here. My worries slip away.

"Babe, what is this?" She stands there beaming with energy. "It smells delicious!"

"It tastes better I assure you," I reply sharply. "I thought you might need a pick me up after biology. I know you hate biology. I just put the pie in."

She runs up to me and wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips against mine and suddenly I am overwhelmed with the flavor of cherry.

She's a lip balm kind of girl.

I place my hands around her hips to disengage. I don't want to ruin the moment but she presses her pelvis closer to mine. My throat trembles as I try to swallow the saliva in my mouth. Drooling would certainly ruin the moment. She tilts her head to the side, and with a half smile asks me, "What kind of pie is it?"

"Apple." I try to make that word sound as sexy as I can, but apples are not an aphrodisiac apparently. Still, it must have worked on some level because she kisses me. This time her lips laying claim to a portion of my neck. They are so soft. And I can feel her breathing deep. Every breath coursing through her body and exiting through my hands that still sit firmly on her waist.

"Are you sure?" I ask her ensuring consent before I follow through.

"I'm yours." She replies implying submission.

"Know that we can stop anytime you want." I move my hand to the side of her face to let her know I am not here to hurt her.

"Then make me never want to stop." This time she climbs on her toes ensuring there is no more rebuttal.

I slide my hands down her back to her waist. She moves her lips from my neck to my chest. I slip my hands between her thighs to harness her in my arms and then fumble my way to her pale green couch.

I remove her sweatpants with her socks and shoes while she tries to tear off her tank top. I can feel her body pulsing in my arms with anticipation. We haven't had sex yet. I don't want to disappoint her. I start with small kisses on her inner thighs. Feeling her take a breath each time my lips touch her skin. She places her legs on my shoulders as if she is begging me to venture further. I receive her message. I incorporate my tongue, tasting her as I make my way to her crotch. She grabs the back of my neck and I grab her throat. Neither of us wants to let go. But I want to know her, still, deeper. So when I feel I have made my way from her rivers to her waterfalls, I inch my way into her mind. She digs her nails into my back. The more I see of her it is as if she's fighting being opened up. And then she releases it all to me. And in that moment I can feel all of her. The electricity of her emotions livens me.

She looks over at me, smiling, and says "I'm glad my first time was with you."

Then with sweat dripping from my brow, I look over at her. And with what feels like my final breath whisper, "I think I burnt the pie."