Cupid Shot Me by Frank W. Butterfield

Author:Frank W. Butterfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Frank W. Butterfield
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

VI

Once we were outside, I felt even better, like I could breathe again. The night air had turned even colder while we were at the party, and I leaned into Jeffrey’s sizable form for warmth and connection. The wind, from off the lake, had picked up, sending plastic bags and other bits of trash tumbleweeding down the deserted street.

I suppose we were lucky. I guessed the temperature to be somewhere in the upper thirties or low forties, balmy for Chicago in February.

Jeffrey slid his arm around my shoulder. Finally, I was getting a little affection from him! Maybe he was just shy—and perhaps I was right about him not being much of an exhibitionist.

He leaned his mouth close to my ear, his breath hot. “Did you drive?” he asked.

“No, I’m afraid we’ll have to depend on the good old CTA. Unless you have a car?” I paused for a moment. He shook his head.

There was no way to get from point A to point B without simply asking. “So, you want to come by my place for a while?”

“You guys. You all think the same.” He shook his head, and I withered inside. Had I overstepped? Was I moving too fast? But then, he must have understood when I asked him to leave the party that home—his or mine—would be an ultimate destination. At last, he put me at ease when he smiled and said, “Sure.”

We headed down the street, toward the L stop.

As we walked, we passed a dark, shadowy alley. Jeffrey paused and looked down it. “Wait,” he said softly. “I want to kiss you. Can we have a moment alone?” He nodded toward the mouth of the passageway, filled with darkness and blessed emptiness.

I, of course, was only too happy to respond in the affirmative to such an offer.

We started down the brick-paved alley, the shadows engulfing us.

After we had traversed about half its length, Jeffrey pushed me against a brick wall—the back of an apartment building. It was dark and cold. I really just wanted to hurry to the L stop, get on board, and travel safely to my apartment on Sherwin Avenue.

But if Jeffrey had other ideas, well, in spite of the cold, that could be exciting, too.

He leaned into me and his lips found mine. He kissed me passionately. Yet, when I attempted to open his mouth with my tongue, he kept it firmly closed. What was with this guy and French kissing, anyway? Were we not going to get into any deep kissing the whole night? Good looking as Jeffrey was, I didn’t know if I would be into that. Kissing had always been the high point of any encounter for me.

I kept my eyes closed, trying to settle for this mashing of our mouths together. Jeffrey was hot and the pressure of his mouth against mine, along with the feel of his hard, muscular frame glued to mine was intense and erotic.

Jeffrey paused to struggle out of the backpack and set it on the ground beside us.

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