Good Vibrations

She wanted him, but didn't want to talk to him. Right now at least. Their bodies fit together like magnetic puzzle parts whenever they were in the same room, but lately words had been tricky. Even a simple question like who loved whom led to blind alleys, sudden reversals, pointless elaborations.She needed a little space from their verbal jousts, to let the grounds settle, see what clarified. But she still wanted him.He'd been calling her cell phone every few minutes, at first leaving playful, then anxious message. Now he was just calling. She felt OK about this -- not stalked. It was reassuring to know how much she was in his mind. Still, she turned her phone ringer off, setting it to vibrate instead. The chirring amused her, sounding like a cricket or purring cat on steroids. But right now she didn't need his mind words, his relationship dialectics. She needed his warm, rough hands, hot breath, little gasps when she pulled or bit something unexpectedly, that smell of earth and sweat and pheromones. She looked at the trapezoid of light slowly sweeping across her wall from the window. The days were getting short. Suddenly she thought of making love with him, of the rewards that slept in dark, moist places, in slippery touches, of pressures that were just enough or deliciously too much.. She wanted him. The phone rang again, and she laid it against her crotch. But the coarse jeans dulled any sensation. So she stood up, stripped them off her long legs, relaxed on the couch, and laid the phone in the vee of her silk thong. Now the buzzing meant something. Now he was talking to her at a deep level. She moaned a little, and said out loud... keep calling me. I don't want to talk to you. Keep calling me.