MidReal Story
Secrets of Desire
Scenario: I lick girls' feet through all kinds of excuses
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Another party and I’m standing alone.
This is how it always goes.
I’m a wallflower.
The guy who’s shy and awkward, and I can never seem to get over it.
Everyone tells me I’m good-looking, but I never feel like it.
Being six feet, two inches tall with brown hair and blue eyes, I guess I’m what some would consider handsome.
My best friend, Brock, tells me I’m hot.
That I could have any girl I want if I just put myself out there.
He has no idea how hard that is for me.
I don’t know how to act around women, and it’s not like I can just come out and tell them my secret.
It’s not something a lot of people would be able to understand.
So instead, I hide it inside and put up a front, pretending to be someone I’m not.
And when it comes to women, that usually means being an asshole to keep them away.
But at the heart of it all, I’m not an asshole at all.
I just don’t want to get hurt.
Hurt because when a woman finds out my desires aren’t like everyone else’s, once they find out what really gets me going, they judge me.
Make fun of me.
So I avoid them at all costs.
But tonight is different.
Brock made it his mission to get me laid, and he’s not going to leave me alone until that happens.
He’s been trying for months, ever since the last girl found out my secret and decided to expose it to everyone we know.
So here we are again at another party, and all I want is to go home and drink alone in my apartment while watching Netflix until I pass out from the buzz of alcohol running through my veins.
But instead, I stand here in a crowded room full of people getting trashed with no one to talk to but the friend who dragged me here in the first place.
“Dude, you’re not going to get laid standing here by yourself,” Brock yells over the loud music blasting through the speakers.
“Get out there and talk to someone.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder as he says it, urging me forward.
I do a quick scan of the room full of people laughing and dancing, of women with their hands in the air like they just don’t care.
And then I spot her.
She’s stunning with long blonde hair that falls in waves down her back.
Her complexion is perfect.
Her skin smooth and creamy.
She has a smile that lights up a room, but it’s her eyes that have me caught.
They’re a light blue that reminds me of a clear sky on a summer’s day.
I can’t look away.
I can’t stop staring at her from across the room.
And maybe it’s the alcohol rushing through my veins or the fact that Brock has been pumping me up all night telling me I could have any girl I want, but I decide right then that I want her.
I need her.
To feel her skin against mine.
To taste her lips on mine.
And as I continue to watch her from afar, I plan my approach.
I’m going to walk up to her and introduce myself in a way that doesn’t make me look like a complete idiot.
But as I try to build up the courage to take that first step toward her, I feel it…that fear.
It grips my chest and squeezes as I try to push past it.
Just go over there and talk to her.
What’s the worst that could happen?
She could shoot you down.
But so what if she does?
It’s not like you’ll ever see her again.
You’ll never have to come back to another party with Brock trying to make you find a woman.
It should be easy.
It should be simple.
So why do I feel like I’m going to puke?
Taking a deep breath to try and shake it off, I straighten my shoulders and take a step toward her.
As I walk across the room, I try to tell myself that she’s just a girl.
There are millions of them in the world.
There is nothing special about her.
But when I finally make my way over to where she stands with a group of other women and men in the corner of the living room, I realize how wrong I am.
Because this girl is different than any girl I’ve ever seen before.
She stands out in a way that makes me want to know more about her than just her name.
And that’s when I realize what I have to do.
“Hey,” I say as I approach the group.
I’m going to need a refill.
Anyone else want a drink?”
When I ask the question, all eyes turn to me.
But it’s hers that hold me captive.
Her lips form a perfect red bow as she smiles at me.
A smile that lights up her entire face and makes me think maybe this whole woman thing won’t be as hard as I thought it would be.
“I’d love a glass of white wine,” she says.
I nod my head and make my way over to the drink station behind the couch to pour her a glass.
And as I do, I try to push down the nerves threatening to surface.
I can do this.
Once the glass is full, I grab a beer for myself as an excuse to talk to her before making my way back over to where she stands.
I try not to trip over my own feet or spill the drinks in my shaking hands as I walk nervously back toward her.
I can do this.
But as I get closer, I see that she’s now alone on the couch in the corner of the room.
The rest of her friends must have gone off somewhere leaving her by herself.
I take in her features as she sits there staring down at her feet resting on the coffee table in front of her.
She’s wearing a purple sundress and sandals that show off her perfect pedicured toes.
Her feet are small, delicate.
And for some reason, I can’t stop staring at them.
“Hey,” I say, drawing her attention away from whatever it is she’s studying on her toes.
I hold out the glass of wine in my hand.
“I got you your drink.”
Her face lights up when she sees me standing in front of her, and she smiles, showing off those perfect teeth again.
“Thank you,” she says, reaching out to take the glass from my hand.
As our fingers brush together, something inside of me shifts, making me think about how it would feel to hold her hand in mine.
To run my thumb across the back of it while I look into those blue eyes of hers.
If this were any other woman, I’d take her hand in mine without even thinking twice about it.
But this is different.
Something tells me that if I make a move on this woman, she won’t just be another notch in my belt.
