Afternoon Delight of Sorts

I got the phone call late one night. XX was going to be in town for the day and wanted to meet for lunch.

I had a really busy work day ahead of me, but, as I've said to him before, "When can I ever say no to you?"

Fucking never, apparently.

I met him on 23rd street, at a bar that I knew he'd like. His eyes lit up from the minute I walked into the room, following my curves and settling at my eyes. As always, the chemistry between us was palpable, and he scooped me up in a giant bear hug, kissing me once, twice, several times more.

It made for a very flustery hour and a half.

I know that food was ordered at some point, whether it was ingested or not I cannot recall.

Taking the afternoon off was not an option, so I had to settle for a makeout session on 23rd and 8th. Does that count as a nooner?

The rapist once asked me why this person was not a viable partner for me. Besides the 506 reasons, the main thing is, he is always my past, and always my future, but somehow, is never my present.