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She may have seen his face a million times, but standing there in the mobbed airport terminal, her nerves were getting to her. She was anxious to see the man for whom she'd shared so many amazing words, so much friendship. "What the hell are you afraid of?" she kept repeating in her head, not that her brain was listening. It was only a wedding date. He simply needed a warm body to sit in the pew with. He wasn't coming all this way just for her. Right?

He took great solace in the fact that he'd had a pleasant flight. Hopefully the lack of turbulence would flow through the weekend like a breeze. "Where is she?" he thought as he cut through the mass of travelers, patience fading. There she was. Their eyes finally met face to face, gazes aligning. To him no one looked more radiant. To her, he looked divine, in a way she had almost hoped he wouldn't. Pleasantries were exchanged, a brief hug was shared, and they made their way to dinner. Tonight in the big city they are only friends, just as their notes and cards had led them to believe. But for the two of them a palpable excitement hung in the thick summer air.

Early morning weddings can be a chore, so a hasty goodnight was planned. She loved that he walked her to her hotel room. His was only two doors away but it seemed like miles. They embraced for a long goodnight hug and his soft lips grazed her cheek. A tingling sensation swept over her that she fought to hide. With an intoxicating grin he wished her goodnight and let her be. She stopped just shy of closing the door, hoping he hadn't left yet. Two dear friends called it a night.

6 am came suddenly. Not that she got more than a few minutes of sleep. Was he thinking of her too? She went over ever little sign she could analyze, wondering where his true feelings lay. A warm shower didn't relax her tension. She wrapped her towel halfway around her naked, wet torso and waited for the misty mirror to clear. As it did her mind and fingers began to wander. She slowly traced the letters to the word FUCK with a question mark into the blurry glass. She felt so naughty. She quickly followed that with the words NO and MAYBE, her mind still playing guessing games. She let out a deep sigh knowing an answer would not be produced. And at that moment a knock rapped on her door.

There he stood in the morning light, looking as if he'd slept for only minutes. His heart was already pounding when she opened the door wearing only a towel, the moist residue of the shower on her fresh skin.

"Oh, um...sorry I'll..." he barely got out.

"No, its ok....come on in," she said gently. Being the gentlemen he is, his eye quickly diverted to the floor, too sweet to steal a glimpse. Any fear and anxiety she had quickly vanished when she said "you can look at me you know."

Slowly his eyes rose to meet only her eyes, no more or less. But his attention was quickly stolen. There in the misty reflection of the bathroom mirror was her bare ass. And right above it was the word FUCK with a question mark. All at once she realized what was happening but she didn't care. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. They were about to have their first dance.

.....continued in Part 2

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in the Sex and Love section of Creative Loafing.