His Name Is Jake Saunders

I'm So Hot For Jake!

***The third post as part of my 200th CaliforniaSoulBlog post special! That's it for now; hope you enjoy and stay tuned for much more! Soul xo!***

Going home, I felt like there was no point talking to Jake. He seemed so shelled up whenever it came to him and who he was. It's not like I was asking for his whole life's story (it was only a joke, and I know he knew what I meant); but wasn't I deserving of at least a bit of him coming to the surface? I mean, the one night stand phase has passed, which means it'd be awkward if it was just us having sex and working together, and barely knowing anything about each other afterwards. Who knows, maybe I was out of place. Maybe he has more experience in surrendering knowledge of one another as an advantage, rather than telling every little detail to make the arrangement more comfortable. Suddenly, this whole 'just sex' thing wasn't fun. And we haven't even started having the 'sex' part of our fun time yet!

The deflation I felt carried on through the weekend, and I barely moved from my bedroom. I ate cereal in my underwear, watching some TV. I sat in my room, reading, snacking throughout the day, and surfing the web like a pre-teen that didn't have a full time job, wasn't paying rent in New York City, and whose veins were chemically linked to the internet.

The worst part about my little time with Jake, however brief, was that every time I thought about him, I thought about his eyes, then his straight nose, carrying down to his audacious smile, his tiny dimple when he curved his lips with charming arrogance, his coiffed brown hair, dishevelled when he was in my bed, under these tacky Chinese lanterns that, no matter what anyone says about them, I loved; his toned body, washboard abs, rippling muscled creamy-white back, his perfectly rounded butt, and his thick, pink pe-I turned over onto my back, gasping for my life, my right hand in my underwear. My back arched, my head clouded, my eyes closed, and my mouth wide open in sheer Earth shattering pleasure. My toes curled so hard my big toe cracked.

A knock on my door made me spin abruptly, tossing myself off the bed. "Coming!" I shouted. "Just a second!"

I ran into the bathroom, snagging new underwear and freshening myself up. Opening a couple of windows just in case. It would be so weird if whoever's there walks in and smells solo sex. I put on shorts beneath my long oversized shirt, still making me look like I was wearing nothing underneath, and then trotted to my front door. In the peephole, I saw Jake. Damn! If I knew it was him, I wouldn't have called out. But then again the loud thump of me falling off the bed would have alerted him of my presence.

"What do you want?"

He smiled lazily, eyes soft. "Will you please open up?"

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I want to talk."

I sighed loudly, not knowing if he heard or not, and stepped aside to pull the door open. "Yes?"

He appraised me, very quickly, as though he were cautious not to linger. Then he blinked twice slowly, words on his mind that were hesitant to slide out from his tongue. Then he spoke. "My name is not Jake Saunders."