"Don’t run into the wall!" I shrieked shrilly, but it was too late. Blake waltzed face first into the wall in front of him, falling backwards in a daze. I bit my lip and cringed as I watched it happen.
"Jesus…" I heard him start to mutter under his breath. I expected him to take his blindfold - or last night’s tie - off but he was a trooper and kept it snugly around his eyes.
"Sorry Blake," I managed to say sympathetically. "If it’s any comfort to know, I’ve run into many more walls without impaired vision."
He rubbed his forehead tenderly and I helped him up. “I fell pretty hard on my ass too, hon. You have to remember, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
I chuckled a little. “Just hold my hand and follow me so we can get this damn thing off of you and avoid further damage to you.”
Yesterday was the first anniversary of being a couple. It should’ve been a happy, celebratory event, but alas it was spoiled by the Clippers’ exit from the players via the Thunder. Blake had had a great - no, fantastic - season this year, and it was tough to see it come to a close so quickly after all the hard work he had put in. After the loss, I tried to console Blake with a nice home cooked meal, the Weeknd, and a cheesy card, but it could not lift his spirits. I couldn’t blame poor Blake. It’s an awful feeling - hell, it’s hard enough for me to just watch the games myself. Anyways, I wasn’t hugely upset about not having a big fiasco for our anniversary, but it was worth something. We had been so on-and-off before, and then we had a long drought for an entire year… It was just a mess. A year together was a millennia in our time, and the best part was that it was an incredible year with him. It deserved some recognition.
So tonight, I had the perfect idea set up. I know Blake had been incredibly stressed about playoffs in general, but the whole Donald Sterling scandal did not help a thing. There were exit interviews this morning so I didn’t have the entire day for ourselves, but it gave me time to set up my immaculate plan. Blake had a favorite mixtape that I had made for him, so I played that on the stereo before he came home. I cooked his favorite meal of mine: steak with my special orzo and corn. I also lit some candles around to create dramatic lighting (although it may have been more for me than him…). Blake was also a leg guy, and I knew he particularly liked my relatively long ones. I wore my best booty shorts and a tight tanktop that made my boobs look freakin’ awesome. And finally, on our bed, I left plane tickets to a place he and I had never been - Croatia.
As confident as I was, I was also shitting myself a little bit. I was trying cheer up a pissed off, tired, stressed man whose dreams had been crushed on the day of our anniversary. What if he didn’t want to go anywhere? What if he thought my outfit or the decor was dumb? What if he just hates me for trying so hard? Ugh. Its a hard life, being an NBA lady.
I heard the key turn inside the lock of the garage door. I grabbed the tie from last night and sprinted to the door, waiting like Chaney does for him on the daily. As soon as he entered, I wrapped the tie around his eyes and tightly tied it.
"Am I being abducted?" He asked irritably.
"No," I reassured. "Just follow me."
"Emily what is this even all-"
"Don’t run into the wall!"
And now here we were.
I led him into the room, told him to stand where he was as I positioned myself in a draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls pose, and finally I let him take the tie off.
"Ta-da!” I said excitedly.
I wasn’t entirely sure what I expected, but what I got wasn’t what I wanted.
Instead of any appreciation for my efforts or happiness for our little accomplishment or any positive emotion, I got a sigh and an “Emily, please not now.”
My smile turned into a puzzled expression. “What are you talking about?”
“Em, I love you. I really do. But I’m really in the mood to do it with you right now.”
My eyes widened and I gasped in disbelief. “Wait wait wait wait wait. You think I’m doing all this just to have sex with you?”
That made Blake shut his mouth.
Okay sure, it wasn’t a huge deal. Eh, it kinda was to me. We’ve been dating for one whole goddamn year. That’s what I’m celebrating, damn it, I’m not trying to get him to do the nasty with me. I got up, feeling slightly embarrassed but mostly pissed.
“Okay mister, listen up. In case you forgot, yesterday was our first anniversary. Sure, it may seem petty or cliché to care about it, but I feel like it’s a pretty big step in our lives together. THAT’S what I’m celebrating here. I didn’t realize that you thought I had to put all this shit together in order to have your permission to have sex with you. But let me clear that up - I don’t. I’m not your personal whore who has to wait for -“
Before I could finish my little rant, Blake swooped over to me, grabbed my hips, and planted a big wet kiss right on my lips. I squealed in distress at first, but it took maybe three seconds for me to melt like putty in his hands.
"I’m sorry," he whispered as he oh so slightly pulled away from my face briefly.
"That’s more like it," I said sassily.
"Oh really?" he said, reciprocating my attitude in his tone. "I think I’m the boss around here, and you don’t talk that way to the boss."
I couldn’t help but giggle, but I kept character. “And what exactly do you plan to do about that, bud?”
Blake smirked, rolled his eyes, then dove down into me and kissed me and lifted me up with such ease that I felt like a feather. My legs wrapped around his torso, he pinned me against a wall, hands in the air, and we just made out and felt each other up hardcore. God, he knew exactly how to have his way with me, and I fucking loved it.
"You’re so fucking hot," he breathed into my neck, nibbling on my goosebumpy skin.
"You’re not so bad yourself," I said airily back. We both eagerly ripped our shirts off and Blake laid me horizontally on the bed.
Blake finally slipped off my shorts, and I did the same to his basketball shorts. Eventually the underwear followed.
It turned out to be a damn good anniversary.
Little did I know it was the calm before the storm.