Enclosed is a photo with my little league baseball team. I'm the cute one. - KW
Yes, you are cute. I find baseball boring. I prefer football. - AM
Football? I didn't know the French played football. - KW
You call it soccer, silly. Soccer. What an ugly word. - AM
That conversation took three weeks to have.
She's barely stepped through the front door before he throws her on the couch. He can't help himself. Doesn't want to. Though this is the first time they've met face to face, they've known each other for years. Serendipity made them pen-pals in the third grade. A love of correspondence kept them that way. Even in high school, when email started becoming prolific, they preferred to read the hand-writing of the other. Subtext lost in sans-serif remained in the lines and curves of ink. Email did, however, become their primary method of exchanging photographs... they've known what each other has looked like throughout their lives. Their voices, however, remained mysteries to each other until a few weeks ago.
She had written that she was coming to the United States. Not to visit him, of course, but to interview for jobs in New York and Los Angeles. He was excited that they would finally be on the same continent, but living just north of Dallas, he didn't think they would have the chance to meet during her trip.
An irresistible need to alleviate being alone changed all that.
She's smiling through their kiss and begins to laugh. Pushing him off slightly, she looks up and says, "Hello." There's almost another laugh, but their mouths draw together too quickly. During their long correspondence, they always managed to maintain a platonic facade. That wall has fallen, and neither would have it any other way.
I am not sure. He has been aggressive. I want to travel and he wants me to settle down. - AM
Nah, don't settle. The world is there to be seen, you know? - KW
I left him. I'm going to blame you if this does not work in my favor. - AM
I'll buy you a coffee if it doesn't. - KW
Are you going to mail it to me? - AM
Got a gift card loaded with Euros just in case. - KW
That one took three days.
She lands gently on his bed, knees bent firmly on its edge. Her skirt is flipped up and she's in no mood to wait for him to undress. She motions him closer with her left hand and shifts her panties to the side with her right. He never even notices their color before she grabs his hair and pulls him in. Perhaps they are pink, but from his vantage, everything is pink.
"Hello. This is Audrey."
"Holy shit. How are you? You sound... hot."
"I am hot. You know this."
"I suppose I do. What's up? Wow. This is weird."
"I am coming to America to interview for work."
She's on top, facing away from him. His hands lay gently on her hips, her silhouette arousing him more than he thought possible. She turns her heads and smiles, her profile seeming to glow blue in the absence of artificial light, then leans back onto his chest. Their eyes meet for moment before she playfully cranes her neck, exposing it to his awaiting mouth. She wants him to do something, but he's unsure of what. Confused, his hands begin to probe her body, fingers joining in lustful exploration.
"No, like this." There is no awkwardness in her command, and he feels no embarrassment in obeying. The language of their bodies becomes as fluent as their tongues.
A smile, a nervous laugh. She covers her face in uninhibited joy. Though this is the first time they've met face to face, they've known each other for years. Thousands of sheets of paper exchanged between them lead to a simple answer:
"Of course. Yes."