by Diane Wininger Bullock
Nathan, my sophomore year guitar teacher, is a senior and a classical guitar and composition major. I am taken by him from the very first day of class. He is clever, foxy, incisively witty, hypercritical, and oh so savvy about "alternative" music, culture, and the like. He just exudes coolness from every pore of his pretentious being. And the fact that he holds the elevated status as my teacher is a colossal turn-on. As an impressionable 20 year old, he has me lapping up every inflated insight.
I spend about two months plotting my seduction. The undertaking begins subtly with my striking up casual conversation after class. We end up walking out of the building together and after several classes, I am regularly giving him rides home.
I manipulate each 3 minute car ride to full capacity by planning beforehand precisely what song should be playing on my tape deck when he gets in my car. It is evident that Nathan is most impressed with women who demonstrate the "appropriate" music taste and knowledge.
One day I unwittingly score major cool points when he happens to notice an old dubbed tape of XTC's "Skylarking" in the back seat. Unbeknownst to me, XTC is one of his all-time faves. On the backside is the Cocteau Twins "Treasure", of which he also highly approves. I tell him that they are one of *my* all-time faves.
The next time we have class, I catch his glance at my boobs as I am stretching my arms into my pseudo-goth motorcycle jacket. The potential for action is mounting. So to speak.
One night a mutual friend is having a party. Nathan says he'll definitely be there. I show up punctually at 10 p.m. donning the finest in hipster wear, and anxiously await his arrival. Midnight rolls around and no Nathan. At this point I am good and self-medicated from a fifth of whatever to help stave off the rejection and am acting like drunk, pathetic, scorned girl.
Then out of nowhere, Nathan and the cool guy posse make their grand entrance. I chalk this up to probably the most thrilling moment of my life. I instantly perk up, shake off the fuzzies, and put on the charm.
We end up sitting on the couch for hours, drinking heavily, and talking about everything from organized religion to college sports. I am giving all the right answers and he seems intrigued enough.
The end of the night approaches and his friends are getting ready to go. Then it happens...he asks me if I want to help him polish off the rest of our bottle of whatever at his place. Naturally I accept and the next thing I know, I am in the very place I had fantasized about for the entire semester--his bedroom.
He sets a little mood lighting with candles and a string of Christmas lights and puts in my very favorite Cocteau Twins song (Now who's seducing who?). The scene is incredibly surreal. I think I'm freakin' dreaming or a part of some drunken version of a romance movie.
I am so perfectly intoxicated--no spins, no nausea--just a warm, comfortable buzz complete with an ample supply of artificial courage.
He sits on the bed beside me. I close my eyes and listen to the music. I am sort of humming along to Lizzie Frazier's cryptic lyrics and he just sits there watching me. I put my feet in his lap and he proceeds to stroke them very delicately.
Then, with absolutely no abandon, I lean over to find him already meeting me halfway for what is the most intense and perfectly customized kiss I've ever received.
We roll around on his bed for the next 8 hours--the level of passion never ebbing even the slightest iota. He kisses every inch of my calves and thighs and he even sucks my toes! It hardly goes any further than that and it doesn't need to. We both get off completely.
Well, the dream ends as it inevitably must. We share a couple more nights of lovin' which pale in comparison to the first. He disses me and I become increasingly infatuated. I stalk for a while and he gets freaked and I become increasingly infatuated. Guitar class gets uncomfortable to say the least.
He graduates, moves to California and that's that. At least he is generous enough to give me an "A" for the course even though I actually forego part of my final exam. But ya know, I think I've earned it anyway.