I remembered the darkness and how my nervous body seemed to react to this change in environment. Never been in a situation like this before, I had no idea how to do any of this correctly. The fan was whirring above both of our heads, and I thought about all those fake television kisses- the ones that you wish you could imitate. His soft murmuring was assuring me that my imitation was working- maybe I wasn't a complete failure.

Still I felt unprepared and inexperienced.

I've always put people off at a distance- so scared of being used or hurt. Why couldn't I keep that disposition when it comes to him; a complete, yet handsome, stranger? Still his hands traced the many untouched placed on my body, and I didn't want him to stop. Even though I knew I had to. The conditions were unfamiliar and adventurous at best; but he was drunk and I felt inebriated by contact. What was I doing? Who was this primitive and confident girl purposefully kissing him back? Not me, and this quick transformation was shocking;

Exhilarating-

Scary…

My shirt was over my head and tossed aside before I realized I had done that willingly. All of my focus was on his lips and the rhyme of my pounding heart. Could he tell how nervous I was? Could he tell that I had no clue how this goes next? His shirt followed after mine. Flesh to flesh; my thoughts are going a million miles a minute. His hands on my back, my hands in his hair- I was beginning to believe my own performance to be real? Was this real? Then is quickly became real, because my bra straps were down, despite the darkness, I felt as if he could see me; no one has ever seen me like this before and I could not figure out how I should feel…

Thump-thump. His tongue in my mouth.

Thump-thump-thump. His mouth kisses a trail to my naked chest.

Thump-thump- thump-thump! His hands snake down to my belt buckle.

I make a strangled noise inside of his mouth, and my hands find his and pull them away before we reached critical mass. I can't be certain then, if he knew why I had stopped him. I was too busy trying to match his kisses, I couldn't verbally say 'no'. So he continued, his hands roaming, squeezing, touching every and anything he wanted to within reason, I was giving him my silent permission. I was near explosion, and as he took off his own pants and underwear, I realized that he was too. Flesh to flesh; he needed something, he needed me; but this time when his hands found their way to my belt, I had to stop him.

Nervous laughter filled the room and opaque blackness, as I leaned over him trying to calm my nerves. A million things could be going through his head right now, and none 

of them seemed to flattering. I gave him a few words that seemed to do nothing about cooling off his head. His hands pulled me back down towards him, between his lips- that were brushed against mine again- he murmured something about morals, protection, and being a 'good guy'. I was too out of it to get the exact wording, but I understood what he was trying to say- and I gave him a couple more words and he seemed to understand that not all only children get what they want.

I felt raw with emotion and time seemed to lose its meaning. We fooled around a bit more, and talked about meaningful yet empty things. I thought I could learn some more about this dangerous stranger and I still think I have. It's just the troubling paranoia that follows me- the constant fear of being hurt and used still hung over me. Maybe he's use to that sort of thing, love them and leave them. Unprepared and inexperienced, maybe this was what college people did. Maybe causality with every aspect of life was the norm, but I wanted more than just the physical, I wanted to actually know this intriguing guy- no matter how dangerous it might be.

Regrets…

It's the confusion in the What If's. If I could rewind and get back to that moment in the glittering blackness, what would I have done? Did I make the right choice by promising myself to be strong? Or had I been foolish. My body was telling me something different than my more reasonable mind- who reassures me that I had done the right thing. I deserved more than spur of the moment nonchalant cavalier romantic dealings. He never promised me more than just that night- nothing more than just friendship. How could I have really done what he wanted to do without commitment, or was I just fooling myself?