Humidity City

It is absolutely, positively, swelteringly hot. Hotter than hot. 

New York city in the middle of summer can be an enchanting place. Like magic, flowers burst wildly from underneath dusty sidewalks. Humans escape from their tiny, cramped apartments, called outside by the sounds of street fairs, music, cars honking, and the pursuit of adventure. And when darkness looms, the city only seems to heighten its senses, luring you back outside into the warm nighttime air. 

It’s a place you can find yourself strolling home in the early hours of the morning, dawn creeping out into the empty streets of the Lower East Side. 

But New York City in the thick of summer can also be wet.

Well-endowed with hot humidity and old buildings without central air, it will leave you covered in a sheen of sticky sweat, longing for any glimpse of relief. Especially when lying completely still, trying to sleep.

~~~

I reposition myself on the couch and tug on the small gray blanket. It barely covers my toes. Little beads of sweat pool against my hairline as I shift around a little more, trying to get comfortable.

"Useless," I breathe. "Too fucking hot."

I take a sip from my glass of water then set it back on the wooden coffee table. I clasp my hands against my chest like a corpse, and wait. Wait for sleep to consume me. Nothing.

A door suddenly opens and, "Bergman, do you want to sleep in here tonight?"

Luke emerges from his bedroom, leaning casually against the open door frame and looking cozy in glasses and pajamas. I've been sleeping in the living room all weekend, so this question surprises me.

But I'm most surprised by the way he asks me, so casually, as if the very suggestion isn't laced in heavy implications. As if the long weekend that two friends have just spent together wasn't leading to this exact kind of moment. A moment of truth.

I must look flushed, because he cocks his head to the side and smiles, "I have an AC unit, you know. Don't be shy."

Now I know I'm blushing. I feel warmness spread quickly to every end of my body, so I throw off the blanket and stand. I walk slowly towards him and try my best to act casual about it like him. Oh, we're playing this game? I can be subtle, too.

Even before I reach the doorway of his room, I feel the icy breeze of the window unit hit me. My hesitation suddenly melts away, and I step easily through his door.

Luke now stands with his back to me, crouched over the unit, fiddling with the dials. 

"That's as cold as it gets unfortunately."

He turns around, finding me standing a few feet back, arms outstretched and eyes half-closed. I am enjoying this little moment of winter.

"Better?" he laughs.

"Infinitely," I whisper back.

I watch him walk to his desk to set his glasses down, his demeanor so calm and easy that my heart stops fluttering. Well, kind of. He's wearing an old white t-shirt and thin gray pants, and all I can think is that he must be hot. Why is he wearing so many clothes? And —Is it possible that we’re just going to sleep right now?

I notice the muscles in his long arms, the shape of a tattoo peeking out underneath one of his sleeves. He is no longer the scrawny 18-year-old boy that I once knew, the college friend that used to sell me weed from his little attic apartment, who used to ask me to stay a while, to listen to new music, to talk about our lives, and simply, be. I feel my mouth going dry, an unfamiliar taste pooling deep inside me. It’s hard to look away from him, to stop my thoughts from wandering…

When he catches me staring, the playful expression is gone. In its place is hunger, and need. It's a face I've never seen before, and I simply unravel. 

“Luke, I …”

“Yes?” he interrupts. He holds my gaze and waits, turning his whole body to face me. From the corner of my eye, I sense him step forward, just a fraction of an inch, the sound of his quiet steady breathing echoing against my own shallow breaths. 

“I had a really great time tonight,” I start again.. “Well, the whole weekend really.”

He pauses now before answering, a smile hiding in his eyes, like a secret has just been revealed. “Me too.”           

The sound of his voice, the breathy whisper just inches from me now. It's like fighting gravity when I break away from his gaze. I look at my hands, the floor — anything to keep me from just staring at him, wanting him, unsure of what to do next. 

I glance quickly towards the bed, and when I catch his eyes again, I suddenly know exactly what I want. 

I feel his heat immediately, the cackle of electricity that breaks the moment my hand finds the warmth of his neck. He curls his arm around my waist, tightly grabbing the small of my back to bring our bodies together. I can barely breathe. I take a short, shallow breath as I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him, soft and sweet, his mouth responding to mine, his lips surrendering without hesitation.

The moment I taste his tongue, I feel caught in a storm. Unsure of where I exist and where he intertwines, I let my arms fold around him and melt to his slow, languid kiss. 

He threads his fingers into my hair, and tugs a little, drawing me towards him. I feel his thumb securing the side of my jaw in an unexpectedly rough movement, and I start to pant as the thought appears: does Luke like it rough?

He breaks the kiss to catch my eyes, waiting for an answer to an unspoken question. It's the briefest pause to confirm my consent, so I nod, biting my lip eagerly. He resumes, finding the most sensitive spot below my ear with his tongue, then grazes his teeth there to taste. I hear myself moan, feel my knees buckle from the sensation as I nearly collapse into him. Suddenly, I'm being carried to the bed.

He sets me down and removes my shirt, exposing my feverish skin to the air. Chills sweep over me as he takes in my naked breasts, and as he breathes just a little heavier. I like the feeling of him staring at me with those wide, longing eyes. I reach out to try and remove his shirt too, but he's already there, throwing both our tops onto the floor without another thought.

His chest has a smattering of tattoos, and my fingers instinctively reach out to trace them, admiring, wondering when I'll get the chance to touch him like this again. He closes his eyes, letting me explore. 

But I sense his eagerness growing when he grabs both my hands greedily pinning me to the bed from both sides. He shoots me an expression that lets me know I should not move. I flash him my most wicked smile. 

Pulling off my shorts slowly, Luke leaves me on the bed completely bare and waiting for him. I reach up on my elbows and touch the waistband of his pants, moving my fingers underneath. I watch him shiver involuntarily, sweat dripping from his upper lip.

Luke’s hands close around mine quickly, and he pushes my arms back down. He leans over me to whisper in my ear, "Turn around."

I feel lightheaded in lust as I roll onto my stomach. I look out through the window, the view of the city now clouded by the room’s thick air, condensation forming on the glass. My own skin is pulsing with heat, throbbing from the need to be touched and filled. 

Soft fingers trace the outline of my spine behind me. His movements are like a whisper, dancing on top of my skin, making my breath hiss when I feel his tongue join them. I sense my body rising to meet his touch and protest when he pulls lightly away.

I hear him tearing a condom wrapper open, then feel his quick return to my side, the heated touch of his legs against mine. I know the moment he enters me, but I lose all rational thought when he starts to slowly slide in. A low growl escapes from his lips when his length reaches all the way inside of me.

Luke grabs my hips, pressing his thumbs into the small of my back and digging his fingers into the soft curves. He starts a steady rhythm, slow and wet that makes me impatient, wanting more, harder. So I ask him quietly, then loudly, drowning out the roar of the air conditioning. 

He even tries a little slap, and my resounding cry of pleasure emboldens him to try again. And again. 

“Nina.” Luke whispers softly, gruffly. I know he is close. 

The sound of my first name on his lips has me erupting in wetness and clenching around him tightly. He reaches for my hair again and tugs a little, pulling my head back and into his chest. I feel him lean down into me as his body starts to convulse, his powerful release rocking through us both.

For a moment, I lay on my stomach panting, relishing in the satisfying taste of making Luke orgasm…so hard that he is actually shaking. But I soon start to feel the little prickles of desire spreading over my feverish skin, pulling me back towards him, wanting more. I want to feel him inside me for longer. I feel cheated (and a little smug) that it happened so quickly. 

He flips me over.

He reaches his hands underneath my calves and gently tugs me down towards the edge of the bed, then kneels, dropping his face between my thighs. The assault of his tongue sends me shooting off the bed, and I take a sharp intake of breath. Luke reaches up from behind my ass to place a palm over my lower abdomen, pulling me down and into his mouth.

The combination of his tongue and fingers is so unexpected. So delicately crafted. He moves his head back and forth quickly, and I feel myself melt into his mouth, the sensation gaining momentum when he circles a finger around and into my ass. I get so close, more than once, but he already knows how to tease me, laughing lightly when he hears me whimper. 

“Please, oh my god. Luke, please.” I beg him. He responds by curling a finger inside me, his tongue never leaving my clit. And he does not stop until I explode into a million pieces.

The explosion burns hot and bright. Years of sexual tension flood through me in one powerful stroke: he's the most comfortable person in the world to me, and the combination is like nothing I've ever felt before, not with anyone, not like this.

Heat blooms right into his mouth, and I cry out, rocking into his face with urgency. I let the dizzying vibrations of my orgasm ripple through me as he buries his mouth deeper, slowing his tongue’s movements, tracing his hands along my inner thighs. I think that there can't be any feeling more satisfying than this, the waves of my finish leaving me breathless and humming with contentment.

Until I start laughing.

It starts with little bubbles of hiccupy giggles that quickly turn into fits of hysteria. I feel full of energy and life, as if an invisible spell has been broken. The power of the heat wave has turned cold, covering my skin in a sea of goosebumps. 

I lay there grinning like an idiot for several heart beats until I gingerly open my eyes, and I finally see him.

Luke stands over me, though not the Luke I once knew. It's a brand new person watching me with that familiar sideways smile. He shakes his head gently. "Sooo, I assume this means you enjoyed yourself?"

"Infinitely," I whisper, as another giggle escapes me, remembering my words from before. 

"Better than better."

Photo by наталья-макарова