Getting Cozy

by Nicholas Allen — August 18, 2007

Patricia's apartment is one of those outrageously expensive studio apartments that seem to abound in Manhattan--the kind where you pay upwards of $2000 a month for 500 square feet, and console yourself as best you can by reminding yourself that you have a uniformed doorman, plush elevators, and what would undoubtedly be a great view if only you had a balcony from which to enjoy it. Patricia is clearly clever with decorating, however. There are red velvet couches and cushions everywhere, wood and clever, mysterious lamps hanging from the ceiling, lots of plants on the windowsills and interesting artwork on the walls. The space is warm and inviting--cozy, but also highly sexual in some indefinable way.

Or maybe that's just what I was reading into it. I did, naturally, have my thoughts at that moment attuned to things other than decorating tips.

Patricia made coffee in her tiny kitchen and we talked intermittently as she stirred and poured. We were both pleasantly tired from what had been a long, hot day.

"I had so much fun today," she said, as she carried the coffee cups into the living room and set them on the coffee table. I couldn't have agreed more.

We were settled comfortably on the couch, talking about nothing in particular--just enjoying being together in a cool room after a hot day. Soon enough, we started kissing.

I must admit, I've always been a sucker for a good make out session. I'm the kind of guy who could kiss for hours without feeling I have to do anything "more." Patricia's lips were soft and she felt great in my arms--a woman who's clearly in shape, but still soft in all the places a woman should be.

It was tempting to take things further, to spend the whole night and not leave her until the next morning. But I think we both had the sense that there could be something real here, and when that's the case, it's usually best not to try to push things too fast. So, sometime around 1:00am, I said my reluctant good-byes.

"Let's do something Saturday night," I said, as I was standing in her doorway.

She smiled and kissed me. "Saturday it is..."

Nicholas Allen is a writer and columnist based in Manhattan. To read all of his blogs, click here.