Nanda

Nanda
Five years ago

Dad and I hadn’t been getting along since Hermes came into my life, and it was really hard for me.
Since he would be on duty for New Year’s Eve, I agreed to travel with my parents, trying to reach a peace agreement. The end-of-year holidays had always been emotional moments, times for reconciliation, and I was willing to do anything not to lose either one.
With the flight scheduled for the early hours of New Year’s Eve, I had planned to spend the night in a romantic mood with my handsome guy. He only knew I would be sleeping there; the rest was all secretly planned.
Since Hermes had left a copy of the apartment key with me, I took a taxi and, full of bags, went there much earlier than we had agreed.
I decorated the living room with candles and glitter, set the table with crystal glasses, and chilled a genuine Veuve Clicquot champagne. I had ordered our dinner from a renowned chef who sometimes catered the dinners my father offered to friends. My order was specific: "something delicious, refined, and that wouldn’t lose flavor or texture when reheated." Chefs have their culinary secrets.
"My God, Nanda!" said my love when he opened the door and saw the living room decoration.
"Did you like the surprise?" Hermes said nothing at first, now just looking at me. I think that was the first time he saw me dressed up.
"You look amazing…" I swear I had the impression he was starting to stutter.
I had chosen a long white silk dress, tight to the body, with a side slit that started about a hand’s width below my hip. The daring neckline showed my entire décolletage and had silver beaded details matching my high-heeled sandals.
There was nothing more delightful than teasing him, and that was up to the suggestive makeup I had carefully practiced many times at home to get just right for him.
As an accessory, I wore only the little chain he had rescued from the nightclub the night we met, along with the pendant he gave me at the beach, with our initials — the greatest symbol of our love.
"Happy New Year…" I pulled him by the arm because, still in disbelief, he was standing at the apartment door, practically frozen.
"My beautiful, I don’t even have the courage to touch you, look at me…" he pointed at himself, wearing the black GARRA polo — "I’m dirty, sweaty, poorly dressed."
"Come here!" I ignored his comment and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine and his masculine scent that always awakened my desire. Wasn’t it exactly in that uniform that I had met and been attracted to him?
We stayed like that, holding each other for some time, and it was the most wonderful and innocent feeling in the world. I knew I was in the right place, with the right person, no one would ever make me feel otherwise, and that love, no one could take from inside me.
He touched his lips to mine, purely, maybe even afraid to smudge my makeup, caressed my hair, which was loose but curled from the brush I had done that morning, and pressed his forehead to mine.
"I need a few minutes to shower and get ready."
"Okay, handsome, I also need a few minutes to warm our dinner."
Hermes lifted me into his arms, spun me around 360 degrees, and gently set me down as if I were a fragile, valuable porcelain doll.
With another gentle kiss on the lips, he left me in the living room and ran to the bedroom to get ready.
Between the oven and the microwave, minutes later our table was set, and my boyfriend wore a white shirt, though he didn’t give up the pair of jeans I loved because they fit snugly on his body.
"Why don’t you open our champagne?" I pointed to the bottle in the stainless steel ice bucket. "I chose it especially to toast with you."
He just smiled, grabbed the bottle, removed the foil seal, loosened the wire cage, and popped the cork for our toast, which, at least for me, marked a very special moment — the certainty that there was no future without imagining him by my side.
After pouring our glasses, we toasted to the hope of a new year full of opportunities. He wished my architecture office would continue to grow, and I wished him success on the bar exam.
"To many more happy moments like this," he added before the first sip. "I love you!"
"I love you too, handsome."
"What have you pulled off today, princess… I have no words," he declared emotionally as he sat at the table.
"This is our New Year’s Eve. We have black hake with a soy paste crust made with a torch, herb-seasoned roasted potatoes, and Italian salad with balsamic and pine nuts."
"Pine nuts?"
"They’re Mediterranean pine seeds, a delicacy with a taste very similar to almonds, adding a special touch to the salad."
When we finished dinner, Hermes didn’t even let me clear the table.
He wanted to enjoy as much time as possible with me, and although there had always been that strong desire between us since we met, today, unlike anything before, was a day of exchanging intimacies. Something was different — I could feel it, and I think he could too.
We looked at each other, and maybe what we were seeing was something far beyond what we had seen until then. There was the promise of a future, and I wanted to believe it wasn’t just coming from me. Our feelings were mutual.
It was a night where we spoke little; there was much silence between us, but our looks and gestures said everything we needed the other to know, full of meaning. That was our secret language.
He took my hand and led me to the bedroom, unhurried. When we got there, it was the first time that night his kiss was no longer innocent.
Hermes placed his right hand on the back of my neck while his left caressed my lower back, only the thin silk of the dress separating our skins. He pressed his lips to mine in a slow, deep kiss, patiently running his tongue inside my mouth, taking my breath away, tormenting my already racing heart that longed for his touch.
Pressing my body against his, his hand traveled along my silhouette until he found the hidden zipper of the dress and slowly slid it down. Soon I was half naked, the silk dress falling to the floor, leaving me at his mercy, wearing only white lace panties.
"How beautiful you are, Nanda," he whispered in my ear and traced his wet lips along the curve of my neck, already playing with his fingers on my core.
I unbuttoned his shirt one by one, exploring that delicious defined abdomen, first with my hands, then with kisses. I reached the pants’ zipper and opened it to give myself room to slide my hands inside his boxers and found him hard as a rock.
He finished undressing himself, and halfway through, he also undressed me of my last piece of clothing.
Forcing me to take a few steps back toward the bed, he guided me carefully without letting my gaze stray from his until I lay on the bed and he lay over me, teasing me with kisses and caresses.
It was impossible for me to be wetter, so I felt him fill me, and the slow in-and-out ritual reached deep into my being.
There could be no more real surrender, at least from my side. Hermes would have me forever, I knew that.
"Happy New Year, my love!" I whispered while Hermes was already asleep.