One can’t help but wonder how a man can reach the age of 32 and still think it is acceptable to lick a girl’s face as a form of kissing. first.. you wonder.. what sort of pleasure he derives out of it.. then you wonder how it’s possible that he thinks you could possibly be getting turned on. animal passion is one thing… this is more like when a massive dog catches you in a vulnerable position and slaps its foul tongue across your face. offended. and this is the first ‘date’ mind you.
While trying to figure out how to think of the situation in a positive light.. i find myself more importantly worried he’s going to cause me to wake up with some massive zits. can’t be healthy. i can feel my pores being blocked by strange saliva. oh great.. now he’s literally rhythmically penetrating my mouth with his tongue… i feel violated.
Bad rabbit sex.. except it’s my mouth pinned down.
while he continues doing whatever it is… i let my mind wander.. hmmm How have i found myself in his strangers’ bedroom.. oh god, there is a South Park poster on the wall and i can’t quite place the smell but if i had to label it.. i’d say a cross between sweaty balls and moldy towel. it’s all the things i somehow escaped dealing with when i was a teenager and now the world is trying to even out the score.
I thought i was making an effort to better society. or at least those around me at work. i was turning into one of those girls who i would decide needed to get laid to solve their attitude problems. you know the ones.. you look at them and just think.. wow.. she really just needs to get fucked.
Every few months i set out to get something out of my system. sometimes i justify it as living life to it’s fullest.. sometimes i need to remind myself of some things… other times i suppose i just need some sort of intimate contact with something that can break my routine of eating cereal alone every morning and keep me warm.
My first attempt was with an old friend. Seemingly harmless.. safe.. simple. but rather this begins the little red riding hood saga of trying to find something to satisfy the moment that was juuuust right.. but the process starts with everything alllll wrong.
so i make plans with Don…. go over late and hop in his bed to watch movies.. position myself provocatively and strip down to a slip for movie number two under the covers. when he finally makes his move- literally 10 hours later- we kiss and fumble like teenagers. lets just say after much nervous giggling and limpness.. contact is made… there is hope… for three pumps.. then hope is dribbling down my stomach and forming a pool in my belly button. the ending statement.. uuhh shit, that was way too quick. awkward. followed by clumsy kisses and validating cuddles to say it’s ok, it happens to everyone, that 30 seconds was totally satisfying… and i’m sure i’ll be able to look at you in the eye in the morning. this is only made worse by attempts to analyze where it all went wrong. can we not talk about it.
I go to work the next day more bitter and defeated than usual.
I spotted Aus at work and smiled at him….. i don’t know why.. funny haircuts do it for me. he asked for my number and kept in contact in a nice non-suffocating way so i figured there was potential. I felt some sort of spark. comfort. so last night i invited myself to his house for movies. i don’t know at what point i started declining offers to ‘go out’…. i guess i’m becoming more forward as my soul is hardened and reality is accepted. i have so few days off and have to make the most out of random bursts of energy. again. skip the bullshit going out step… that way he doesn’t have to find some excuse to talk me back to his house.. less games are played.. i have no more patience for games.
He makes his move right away. again. potential is there. but face sucking turns into a whole mess of disappointments. i end up faking sleep to stop the marathon of foreplay that never amounts to anything more than irritation and frustration. if i didn’t take my turn at going limp, he never would have either. he said i should take it as a compliment, it means he really likes me.
When did it become so hard to just get fucked. But eh, at least i got a good massage out of the deal. Massage and reminder that people criticized in the past were actually more deserving of credit than previously thought.
