Well, I finally heard those three little words. You know the ones, those three words that we all want to hear. Even if we won’t admit to it, we all want to hear those three little words. It’s like reaching the mountain top when someone whispers them to you while running his hand down your spine, holding you close to him, his lips almost touching your ear. Electric! Fantastic! Almost an Eargasm, if you will. The world could stop, the universe could end, and you’d be there, stuck in that moment of intense bliss. And it’s all from three little words.
There we were, hanging at Amsterdam, working the crowd, each knowing we were going home with someone, just not who. A smile, a moment of silent communication from across the bar, the beginnings of that great relationship. We’re all looking for it on those nights when we can’t bear the thought of going home alone. It’s sometimes the intervention of the gods, Eros smiling as he drunkenly shoots his dangerous arrows. I don’t believe in love at first sight, mostly because Eros has shitty aim.
I finally saw him across the room, and it was almost magic. The music, once a blaring force in the room, had subsided to nothing, a distant rustle of leaves. His eyes were magnetic, his smile pure poetry, and we met, and kissed. Now I’m not one for kissing a stranger in public, either, but what the heck, a girl’s gotta live! And live I did, because then it happened. He held me, one hand on my back, one on my neck and the side of my face, and he gripped me with passion, the force of a thousand lonely nights. Then he said them. Those Three Little Words.
“I’m a top.”