The First Night

I've had a riveting first date with WDW, and the second date is set for this week. But in between, we craved to meet at night… Like vampires. Not for a date. Not with a purpose. But purely to savour being together, at night.

Friday 8.20pm, my place

A ring to the door. He's early and I'm still brushing my teeth. We said 8.30pm. I open the door and he stands there, with a travel bag on one shoulder, glowing with curiosity. He passes me, brushing my lips with a soft kiss. I feel his excitement transferring onto me.

I watch him walking boldly into the kitchen, opening the freezer and starting loading it with strawberry ice cream. He then begins to open cupboards 'Are you looking for something specific or is it an inspection?' I say, and giggle at seeing him all so comfortable in my kitchen. 'Wine glasses for us. I brought wine' he replies smiling.

What was supposed to be a quick meal, takes me ages to prepare. Probably because I don't focus. We talk. Or rather I talk and he listens. From time to time he gets up, from the comfortable corner of the sofa, to give me a hug or a kiss or just to look at me closely, when I lay out my story.

We eat fish, drink white wine. And he seems ready to open up.

He shares with me a heartbreaking picture of Johannesburg. I don't believe him when he says empathy is not his strong point. I look at him and try to figure out who he is.

He admits having a tendency to view the world through a black and white prism, probably because he has seen so much pain.

'It's not that simple. It's not just black and white - there are many shades of grey'… I interrupt with passion. He gets up and gives me a long kiss. Long enough for me to forget about world poverty tonight.

'Has anyone ever told you the way you eat ice-cream is highly seductive?...' he looks at me intensely until I blush. We kiss and undress, while clumsily making our way towards the bedroom.

'Have you ever done it in the cupboard'? he asks, smiling invitingly.
……

'Jeez, your long hair is everywhere. I've just found some in my underpants!' he complains in bed.
'They don't normally fall out like that' I lie.
'Can I fart?' he asks trying to sound innocent. 'No!', I reply firmly, and soon fall asleep blissfully exhausted, with my face in his chest.