Tongue-tied on the 3 Train

©vessa07DUP2016  
All Rights Reserved  

Somewhere between the stop at 125th and Central Park North at 110th street you entered my subway car on the 3 line. The amount of morning wood between you and I makes me instinctively transfixed on my phone screen. The brief moment that I looked up I noticed you burning holes into my cheek bones and I found myself 'basking in the essence of your golden auric expression. Paused in a moment of rapturous stillness, I envisioned my name coming from your tanned lips from dawn to dusk.'  
   
The jolt of the car and switch of the tracks made the lights blink for a moment. I lost eye contact with you and saw my own reflection in the window across from me and noticed that my mouth was opened slightly, and the women sitting directly in front of me was watching our silent exchange. She smiled up at me and tried to look in your direction to no avail, she raised her eyebrows and smirked almost encouraging me to continue the visual flirtation, and I lurched forward towards her as the crowd shifted behind me to let people exit at 72nd street. Slightly embarrassed at being noticeably obvious in my moment of lust for you I paused, closed my eyes and swayed side to side with the subway car trying to gather myself.  
   
I looked back towards where you were and noticed you had disappeared. Desperately searching the tall figures trying to catch your jet black hair... Failure, disappointment...and then as if answering the little green monster on my left shoulder I felt you before I saw you. Somewhere between a smirk and an eyebrow raise, you maneuvered yourself behind me. I quivered slightly and looked at you over my shoulder giving me a glimpse of your white teeth as you smiled and bit your bottom lip.    
   
Longing for you to speak, I turned slightly and made eye contact with you. Holding the railing above and behind me put my body on full display despite being covered from head to toe. You were drinking in the curves of the fabric hugging my skin like painting on a sculpture. Inches from your face and forcibly pressed against your torso because of the crowded car made the electricity pass between us like static. "Ya gamila," (hey, beautiful), you mumbled almost inaudibly testing if I understood you. I wore the garb but so many Muslim Americans don't speak Arabic, so it's understandable that your first words to me would be in your mother tongue.  
   
I smiled acting as if I didn't understand, now testing you to see what you would say if you thought I wouldn't understand. "Einak helwa awi, wa ريحتك مسك" (Your eyes are so beautiful and you smell like misk). You inhaled and closed your eyes. Your facial hair was perfectly manicured, your skin was glowing and the color of mocha, and your eyes were as black as a falcon.    
   
I wanted you to continue your Arabic flirtation but couldn't resist responding. "Shukran ya 3asal." (thank you honey).  
   
Both raven colored eyebrows rose into your hairline and your mouth opened once again. You leaned in so close to my face that I could feel your hot breath on my cheek, our bodies pressing together even further, and you whispered "inti m'nin," (where are you from)?  
   
I pressed my cheek hard onto his and with my lips less than a centimeter from his ear lobe I whispered, "ليه؟ عاوز تشوفيني؟" (Why do you want to see me again). I brought my hand from my hold above me and grabbed your shoulder digging my fingernails into your flesh.  
   
You leaned into me and grabbed the sides of my waist with both hands, and pulling my body towards you, you maneuvered your hands to my backside and then down to the bottom of my ass cheeks, grabbing each one firmly, placing your hands into the pockets, and digging your nails deep. "أيوه، أنا عاوز أشوفَك تاني  
أنا عاوز أشوفَك دلوقتي" (Yes I wanna see you again. I wanna see you right now)."  
   
The train began to slow down near Times Square, my exit, and I jerked my hips forward making you release your grip, and with a smile-no where near discouraged-you put your hands back into my pelvic bone and pressed your thumbs into my ovaries and winked at me. I returned your smile as we both shifted to the side with the gravity of the haunting subway.  You moved your hands up to my ribcage, pulled me toward you and kissed me softly. My lipstick staining your lips a soft peach color, you opened your eyes as you made the connection and we came to a stop.  
   
You pushed me with one hand on my side towards the exit to my right and reached out for me after I left your grasp. I glimpsed at the lady sitting behind me as I left and her mouth was agape with shock having witnessed our rendezvous. I stood outside the door staring at you as passengers shuffled around me to get through, and you never broke eye contact with me as the train began to move away, you brought your outstretched hand to your chin and cupped your lips...  
   
I began walking toward the exit, 'I'll probably never see him again, what are the chances that he takes that same train in that same car every morning at this time...' Thinking to myself the thousands of ways that we could reconnect. Exiting out the turnstile completely deflated and stimulated at the same time. Climbing the stairs to the outside air on 42nd street and Times Square and turning towards H&M and Walgreens making my way towards Bryant Park and a long work day.  
   
My ass cheeks still slightly on fire, I could still feel his nails on my under cheeks and instinctively put my hand in my back pocket... The thick paper stabbed at my fingertips and excited, I pulled it out and held in front of me!  
Zaky *******  
202*******  
Deloitte    
   
Oh this is gonna be fun...