I Saw an Insta Pic of Dan Levy and Antoni Porowski … A Dream Sequence
I was sitting at a cafe in Santa Monica, the twinkling water of the Pacific reflecting sunlight in a million sparkly beams. It was the end of summer, beginning of fall, and I wore cut off jean shorts and a casual tank over my strappy bikini while sipping a mimosa. The plan was to take a swim, dive into a little Pablo Neruda poetry, and sneak a nap in the sun. It may be frowned upon to invite the sun to touch your skin, but I can never resist giving in to sand as cozy as fresh baked bread and the sound of waves as I drift off to sleep.
The beach was next to empty, the crowds had returned to their homes, schools, and jobs, leaving the empty sand for me alone. It was a rare day, a gorgeous day, and time seemed to stand still.
My skin warmed in a strange way, my body responding animalistically to my surroundings, but I was not aware of why.
Then I spotted them.
Two men, strolling up the boardwalk, laughing and enjoying an iced coffee from the artisinal stand up the way. Each time their lips caressed the straw I heard my heart flutter a bit from within, my inner voice whispering words that should never be spoken. I smiled to myself, my mouth watering a bit.
A casual pair, in Converse and shoulder hugging tees, they were the epitomy of easy comfort. I wondered what their clothing smelled like, if their hair was as soft and tuggable as it looked. Their hands were strong and powerful, clutching the plastic cups of icy cold goodness with ease. I wanted those hands, tiny droplets of water clinging to the skin, to gently caress my face.
“Can I bring you anything else?” the waiter inconsiderately interrupted the trajectory of my thoughts.
“Another mimosa,” I said, peeking around him to not miss the show, “actually, make it three.”
He nodded and returned to where he had come from and I turned back to see the two men walking slowly toward me. It was as if while I was momentarily distracted they had come to the same delightful conclusion I was enjoying.
The closer they got to me, the more my skin reached up to sample the air. It was craving the scent of their necks, the taste of their lips, and the way their fingers would feel the first time they reached for me. Each and every tiny bit of peach fuzz stretched to capacity, tingling as they grew closer.
They were no longer looking at each other, reveling in the sunshine and a shared joke. Eyes were focused on me and there was a hunger that didn’t exist a moment ago. I considered standing up, but took a deep breath and calmed myself instead. I realized I was probably unable to move, even if I wanted to, trapped and paralyzed in a web...awaiting what would inevitably come next. At least, what I hoped would come next.
After a brief introduction they joined me.
The two days of scruff hugging their chins framed their gorgeous lips perfectly. Their laughs made my stomach do backflips, my ears reveling in their voices. Locking eyes with these men was enough to make a grown woman beg, and I would have if they asked me to. I wanted to reach out and touch them, to kiss their necks and breath in the taste. I wished there was a tiny place within me where I could store the fresh notes of laundry detergent and leathery cedar body mist for later. I would long for the comfort their skin gave me for years to come.
Two rounds of mimosas and a shared plate of fruit later they invited me to walk with them. Taking me by the hands, one on each side, we strode into the sunshine. I was filled with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years, a calm I had been searching for my whole life. I wasn’t anxious, I needed nothing.
This moment was everything, and with their hands in mine I felt as if I could take on the world.