Despite working under him for years and being fairly good friends, I’d never been to Julian’s. His brief, almost accidental invitation was, however, as formal as he gets. “If no one answers the door right away, no one will. Just come in.”

Even at work Julian sometimes acts the part of the host, and he can be brilliant at it, but he lacks the formalities you might expect.

Thursday night I found myself looking ahead at his home, its second storey barely visible against the night sky. The car next to mine was a ‘67 Saab, dusted with snow, and the first in a long line of cars parked along the house’s long, twisting driveway. Apart from the vehicles, there was no indication that anyone was around. The snow softened any tracks, and there were no other lights, no noises, just blissful winter silence. Skipping over the doorbell, I gave a perfunctory, half-hearted knock. I watched my breath tumble out like a slowly exploding plume of smoke, vanishing without warning. With Julian’s words in mind, I opened the door.

Inside wasn’t much brighter; sconces dimly guided my attention down the long hallway ahead, with no promise of bright lights around the corner. Music weakly reached out. It sounded like one of Meryl’s songs, from the recording they put together last month. Julian loved that kind of thing and played it religiously at work. Meryl, Julian’s wife, occasionally plays cello with a small jazz band. I’d never thought of the cello as a jazzy instrument, but she unquestionably adds to the energy of the group, and I loved to watch them play.

Laughter and the muffled din of conversation over conversation crept up on me as my steps continued to creak along the wooden floor.

Finally, as I made it to the end of the hall, there was another short passage to my right, ending with a door. The noise was much louder now, with the only light coming from the crack under the door. I approached it, ready to make my entrance. As I opened it, I was struck by a wave of warm air thick with perfume and hormones. Soft light enveloped a sea of smiling faces, breaking into laughter, drinks in hand and exuberant conversation everywhere. I felt like I’d stumbled upon another universe. The room was deep, like the hallway I’d just walked through, but much wider, and with a ceiling that must have been twenty feet high.

I looked around, trying to find a familiar face when I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. It was Bjorn, Chris’s friend from Norway. I don’t know him that well, even now, but as soon as he saw me he nearly shouted my name, “the girls! Julian knows so many girls, man!” He was grinning from ear to ear. He handed me a glass, apparently his, and gestured for me to follow him. We started off in the direction of who-knows-where, like a local train, stopping at every opportunity along the twisting corridor of incredibly well-dressed women. Everyone smiled at us, accompanied by sometimes cool and sweaty, sometimes warm and sweaty handshakes.

“I’m Rupert.”

“Lindsey.”

Bjorn piped up, “Call him Ru.”

“Ru,” she repeated before he pulled me on to new faces.

After shaking hands with Allie, a busty girl with big blue eyes, cropped black hair and a self-assured smile, I set Bjorn’s glass down on a window sill, and we headed down another dimly lit hallway, suddenly finding ourselves outside, met by the flat blackness of night, and snow drifts.

“Fuck, it’s cold.”

There was no one out here. In the soft glow of the hallway behind us, Bjorn looked lost. Julian lived on acreage about twenty minutes from the city and on a brooding cloudy night like this, the vast expanse of inky black was so dark that you might be convinced that falling away into the universe was a possibility if you only walked off toward it.

“Julian has quite the house, eh? Have you been here before?”

“No.”

“Me neither. I came with Chris, and when we arrived Julian didn’t even have the hall lights on, we couldn’t even see the hallway! As soon as we took off our shoes we found some stairs to the right and walked up those; I felt like a thief or something. We went up a few steps and straight into a bathroom. Chris turned the light on his phone, and we both freaked out for a moment when it lit up in the mirror! ”

He had his arms crossed, trying not to shiver.

“But he seems adamant about keeping the lights low, I don’t understand. Fuck. It’s cold.”

I was squeezing my stomach muscles to keep from shivering. Bjorn nodded in the direction of the hall, and I followed him back in.

“Did Chris tell you about that girl?”

“Which girl?”

“There’s a girl that wants to see you. We met her two days ago; I was with Chris at Gildenstern’s, and she came up to him and said that she recognized him from college. Chris didn’t recognize her at all! But she says she knows you!” He looked back with a grin. “You might get lucky!” His good humour was infectious, and I liked that news.

“What’s her name?”

“Mikky!” He smiled.

“Mikky?” My heart started to pound. I knew a Mikky. In my second year of college, I sat next to a girl named Mikky, on whom I’d had a massive crush. For only having two classes together, I’d spent an awful lot of time with her. She was gorgeous but downplayed her looks and had a lot of left field interests that drew her away from the pack. She invited me out regularly on weekends to see shows at the campus bar, and at least once a week we’d study together off campus. On a few occasions, I found myself on her bed reading a book, waiting for her to get ready before we went somewhere else, and hoping that a full moon, or something, would drive her into my arms. But she’d had a boyfriend, and in spite of all the attention she gave me, and the interest she seemed to have in the attention I gave her, she was never shy about explicitly telling me about her desire for him. He was seven years older than us, working on the thesis for his Master’s, and working as an assistant prof the rest of the time.

She was living in residence then, and once when I went to pick her up to go study at the library, her roommate let me into their dorm. I was about to knock on her door when the sound of them having sex interrupted me. My heart stopped for a moment. “I think she’s busy,” I said, and then continued to the library alone.

On the surface, I suppose we were platonic, but there was clearly something stirring in the deep. On the day of our last final, just before Christmas break, a bunch of students had gone out for drinks in the afternoon. It was so loud in the bar that I couldn’t hear much, but she seemed to love my attention. When our server appeared with the bill, she took it before I could say anything, and pulling out her wallet, produced two crisp $50 bills. She leaned toward me, putting her small hand on my thigh, and whispered in my ear, “You were in my dreams every night this month.” She looked at me with such a serious expression, her eyes wet. She swallowed, paid the bill, and walked out. I didn’t know how to take that, and I didn’t get a chance to talk to her again. She didn’t return the next semester, and my friend Chris told me that he’d heard that she joined a not-for-profit that was helping new immigrants find jobs.

I had no idea what to think about seeing her again.

Bjorn laughed: “You’re in another world man! But, really, this girl, she looks incredible. And her voice! She could talk me into anything with that voice. I’d do hara-kiri if she asked me to!”

We had made our way back to Allie, who seemed to have been waiting for Bjorn. He picked up his glass from the window sill and took a drink as if it was nothing.

“Find Julian, I saw her talking to him earlier.”

As I turned, I heard Allie ask him coyly: “You’d do hara-kiri if I asked?”

“Please don’t ask me to do that.”

I walked a lap of the room, and not only did I not find Mikky, but I didn’t find anyone else I might have recognized. Julian, Meryl, Chris, they all seemed to be evading me.

I looked around, all the girls I’d just been introduced to were in the thick of what looked like the most interesting conversations. The energy of the room was building. I remember Julian talking about this one afternoon. We had stopped working, all the tools were shut off, and he just sat down and started telling us about how energy is synergistic. And every time two people meet, their energies combine, like waves, and they either balance each other out, drawing from one to raise up the other, or they enhance one another. It might be subtle, and you might not notice it right away, but it will be apparent if you observe them for a while. If what he had been saying was true, tonight they were surely enhanced.

I felt another hand on my shoulder, a softer touch this time.

Mikky. Bjorn wasn’t exaggerating, she looked incredible. Radiantly beautiful. I had to smile. I was overcome by that feeling, like when you’re at some great height and you look out and can see for miles, and you feel like you’re climbing higher and higher, out of control, but enraptured. My heart was pounding, my five senses waking up, maybe my sixth too. Without saying a word, she wraps her arms around me and pulls herself close to me, into my arms. As if we’re celebrating some kind of homecoming, an embrace that lasts just a moment longer than whatever you might call customary. I was getting hard, and could feel myself pressing into her.

Her black hair hangs on my shoulders a moment as she steps back. The feeling of her body echoing deep inside of me, my senses trying to catch up. Her perfume holding me, wrapped around my neck, and then on a marathon through my nose and blood, to every part of my body and through my skin back to her.

“Mikky.” That’s all I can muster.

She smiles.

I was not expecting this, and I’m not sure what to expect from here.

“I was not expecting this.”

She quickly glances at my trousers and then right back up to my eyes, grinning. I could feel my cheeks flush. I can’t help it; I can’t hide it.

“Let’s do that again,” she says, and pulls herself back into me, my erection growing as she pushes her hips against it. “I missed you.”

“Likewise,” I say.

“Since I saw Chris the other night and he told me you’d be here, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. There’s so much to talk about, to catch up on.” She presses her hips even harder against my throbbing erection. “I’ve wanted you.”

Merryl puts her hand on Mikky’s back, “I’m glad you found him.”

“Thank you, Meryl.” She releases me for a moment, smiles at Meryl and then gives her a hug. Meryl kisses her softly on the lips.

What was happening? Maybe this is why I’d never been invited to Julian’s place before. My attention opened back up to the room. The atmosphere had somehow changed, the electric feeling that was dancing between words before has settled into their speakers now. I look over at Bjorn, now lip locked with Allie, his hands settled loosely on her shoulders, one of hers below the unbuttoned waistband of his pants. I wonder if Julian isn’t somehow just playing with everyone, trying to see how many orgasms he could orchestrate tonight. It wouldn’t surprise me, actually. In fact, as I looked around, his thick black glasses were nowhere to be found. Like the big bang, he’d just set it all in motion, after that, whatever happens, happens.

Meryl looks Mikky in the eyes and kisses her again, longer this time, lips parting just a bit. She smiles and then walks off in the direction of Bjorn and Allie.

“You look uncomfortable.”

I nod.

Her expression softens.

“It’s hard to explain, but I’m sorry it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Maybe uncomfortable is the wrong word, maybe just puzzled. I consider myself a fairly open-minded individual, but I’m having trouble understanding just what’s going on right now.”

She nods in agreement, adding: “There is a lot to take in. And we have a lot to talk about. I was here early enough that I had the opportunity to find some quieter, secluded places.”

More memories flooded back, I wondered if, behind the overcast sky, there was a full moon at work. “I’d like that.”

Mikky takes me by the hand and leads me to the door. Hats off to you, Julian.

I felt like these smells were all premonitions, as soon as we’d turn the corner, the room would erupt with wet thighs, semen, and moans.

As I squared up to the doorway, the room was eerily quiet. I took one last look and, as if on cue, I saw a girl I had been introduced to, Karen, I think, with her legs wrapped around someone’s neck, arching her back in enjoyment. At the far side of the room is Meryl, breasts hanging down, crouching behind Allie and Bjorn, guiding Allie’s underwear to the ground.

Mikky leads me away.

We walk back down that dimly lit hallway, each footstep creaking, my erection rubbing against my pant leg. The air is cold in here; I can see goosebumps appearing on my arms, and wonder if they appear on Mikky’s arms too. When we get near the door, we turn left and take the stairs up, turning left again at the bathroom, up more stairs to the second floor. She leads me down another hallway to the right, taking the first door on the left. Inside, she flicks a switch, lighting a bedside lamp, casting its soft light across the room, illuminating two huge windows, the furniture, a bed, and her. Mikky peels the covers back and sits down, staring at me. I take a step closer, reaching for her knee. And we collide.

I feel the layers stripping away, who I am is sinking into my clothes, ready to be peeled off. Our lips meet, her breath and saliva wrapped around my tongue. Like assembling a puzzle, knowing the whole through its parts. The urgency translated by our hands, popping buttons, dropping zippers, our anticipation singing through our shedding clothes. Her hands scale my back, fingers feeling each muscle, over each vertebra. Her knee finds a place on my naked hip as her pants and underwear fall to the floor, and the warmth of her sex, wet against me, brings us closer.

I pull her on top of me, my back against the bed, my erection throbbing under her.

She reaches back with both hands, straddling my right leg, her lips connected with mine, her breath in my mouth, on my cheek, hair cascading over our faces like a veil. She drops her bra and immediately starts stroking me, breasts hanging between us, her tight nipples reaching out. Pushing me gently back into the mattress and leaning forward, she guides me, throbbing, deep inside her. She gasps as she leans back, and I feel all her pressure on my hips as she starts rocking against them. My hands climb her waist, over the ridges of her ribs to her breasts, their magnificent weight filling my hands. Another kiss. Then she sits back and rides me. Mikky grinds against me in a fit of quiet, demonic ecstasy, eyes closed, hands on my shoulders. I’m riding the edge like a long coastal highway, just one sharp turn from going over, and feeling every exhilarating ripple of pleasure. I can feel my thighs wet from her excitement.

She’s panting, leaning over me, sweat dripping from her face onto my chest, trying to calm her rapid breathing. She keeps slowly rocking her hips, and I feel myself filling her, throbbing harder with every thrust. The pleasure keeps building, wave after wave. I feel it growing in me, and when she lets out a gasp and contracts against me, I feel my mind eclipse as my body seizes, cumming inside of her. She lets her body crash against me, heat radiating away from us into the cold air.

As I open my eyes, I find that the light’s been turned off. Once again it’s remarkably quiet, just our own faint breathing, time travelling to days gone. The moon cracks through the clouds, like a silver dollar, lighting up the trees outside, the blankets on our bed, and every delicious curve of Mikky’s body. I pull the blankets up around us. Huddled against her, I rest my hand over her ass, and listening to her deep, even breathing, I close my eyes.