Adrian’s Hands

He lifted her off her feet. Their eyes locked into each other. There was no holding back. That was what he wanted and that much she knew. Other than that, all her emotions and desires were twisted and twirled into one whole mess. The only certainty was her uncertainty.

The light from the bedside lamp was soft on her eyes. She caught sight of the moon – a full one - shining in the night sky through the window. There weren’t any stars that night, she thought, all too far and too few - just like her life; lack of sparkles and full of darkness. And like the moon, Adrian was her only brightness and hope. She was clinging desperately to him as if she was dangling from the ledge of a cliff, such was her emotional vulnerability.

He was gentle, soft and unhurried, putting her down on the bed, almost emotionless. The bed cracked under their weights, as in one movement, he was laying beside her, hands on her shoulders; those strong hands, as if they could hold the whole world as they had held hers. She gasped as his lips came upon her eyes, ears and neck. It was as strangely intimate as confusing. It was as if he was there, yet not there. Maybe that was what she wanted; for him to stop, for her whole world to stop and go away, so she could be left alone and in peace with herself. Amid all these, she was submissive, even suicidal. She was there for him to take.

It was over in a few moments, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. There was no romance, no paradise and no angels singing. The silence thereafter was both welcoming and comforting. She decided then and there that this was what she wanted, for it had been sometime since she had sex. It did not matter who took her. Adrian was looking at her with adoring eyes; those puppy eyes, she thought, just like the first time he presented her with a bouquet of roses. Then she realized what he might be thinking; that this is his gift, his virginity that is. She could not believed what was happening, the irony of it all. She suddenly felt bad about the whole thing. In that moment, Adrian’s hands did not seem so strong after all. She knew then that her world had started to crumble.

PS: Our world has not changed much; men were expected to be more world-wisely and experienced and the women had always wanted to be well taken care of – sexually or otherwise – by the men.

Writer’s final words: I have to admit that my intent stinks of cowardice. Amid the stress of cramming for exams, I wrote this with a pornographic, or to a lesser extent, sexually suggestive intent for self-gratification and self-entertainment. And it is for all to see how un-pornographic it has turned out to be. On hindsight, I may have produced something that is, quite rightly said, not out of my personal experience (no, I am not Adrian, neither am I a woman!). Incidentally, I have proved to myself that it is feasible for me not to only write about my own experiences. It is my first fictional, non-autobiography piece, a virgin in its own sense. It is a virgin talking about virginity, which is what it is. Yet it felt good, which I understand it was not supposed to be (Oops, what did I just let out?). But it did feel too good to be true (I mean the writing, what else you think I was talking about?). I actually think that our local author, Catherine Lim (she has been in the news lately, for being too long-winded apparently) could have been proud of this. By the way, just in case, the reader is wondering why the name Adrian. Remember Adrian Lim, the sex fiend and killer? The irony of it all…