***Warning – Includes questionable content and imagery***
There she is, lying on the bed, the fruits of two weeks of work. Two weeks of bullshit, really. Two weeks of listening to her ramble on about her job as a veterinarian assistant in some startup mom-and-pop humanitarian effort. A last ditch effort for mom and pop to hang onto some small shred of human decency. Though you can already see that shred has withered away to a single, lonesome strand that left them years ago, though they refuse to let go of it, not noticing they’re gripping nothing at all.
While on the third date and still not having seen her naked, you try to keep your eyes at face level, but the inane drivel that escapes her lips causes piercing flashes of white-hot pain that forces you to lower your sights downward to stare at her tits, which bob gently up and down with every breath, like a lone buoy lost at sea, no real purpose, especially clothed. She continues her latest story of veterinarian delights; something about a crazy woman, the crazy woman’s cat and a bottle of generic mustard. She mentions something about the woman possibly having some kind of syndrome requiring a pharmaceutical concoction, but you can’t recall what it was exactly, because it has nothing to do with breasts. You can feel the boredom that emanates from underneath her dual bubbly “personalities” and bleached-blonde highlights. She does a pretty good job of hiding the boredom, but you’ve seen it before and it’s easy to spot. Nothing special with this one. You know that another story is probably next and you’ve decided that the only way you’re gonna sit through this one is while you’re undressing her. I only cuddle if my balls are empty. Random thoughts, but who can blame you? Three dates already? Possibly more. Ouch, my wallet.
I’m not sure how much longer I can take this, you think to yourself, but you’re probably saying it to your dick as well. The same one that is tired of being unfairly smashed up against the zipper of your jeans, time and time again, for the last two weeks; erection growing into uncomfortable angles that you believe is an injustice to all involved, but that’s what dry humping is all about, right? If you’re not going to do anything about it, then your dick will. Is that you talking or is that your dick talking? Is there a difference? Not at this point. Fuck no there’s not. I wonder if guys with small dicks have a problem with dry humping, you’re still wondering to yourself, I mean, they don’t have to worry about it, do they?
“You haven’t said one word tonight, what’s wrong?” she asks with as much inquisitive nature as she can muster, breaking your thoughts of bulbous, bouncing bags of fat, ring sized areolas and black, sweat-stained sheets, outlining where her back and ass lay, seconds ago. Ha-ha, yeah right.
“What?” you ask.
“You’ve been so quiet, something’s wrong, I can see it in your face.”
“It’s nothing, just thinking about things, as usual.”
“Like what?”
“I said it’s nothing.”
“Talk, please, I feel like I’m the only one doing the talking.”
You are. “Nothing I want to share right now, alright?” It really doesn’t end in a question. Plus, it’s not like you’d understand what I have to say anyway.
“Is it me?” she asks, eyes lowered.
Truthfully? Yes, some of it is, but now is not the time to talk about it. Let’s just have a nice quiet dinner and we’ll talk about it later.” Ha-ha, quiet…
Okay,” she says, giving up her inquisitive, concerned look. She gives up too easily, but not what I want her to, what the fuck?
She’s still there (it’s now the fifth date), on your bed, naked, and you didn’t get the chance to disrobe her yourself, which irritates you slightly, but then again, finally, she’s naked. Was it worth it? My wallet, I can’t even feel it in my back pocket anymore, is it still there? You give your right pants pocket a quick tap and… yep, it’s still there.
Why am I the only one that’s naked here?” she wonders out loud, still saying dumb shit, but she’s naked now so that thought escapes you with ease.
Well,” you respond with a mischievous grin, “uh, good question.” You proceed to take your shirt off, but not before tapping your right pants pocket again, to make sure your wallet still resides there, as if it might have leaped out a few seconds ago, when you were staring at her machine-bronzed skin. “I want you to take of my pants though.”
Excuse me?”
You heard me, get your ass over here and undo my belt and pull down my jeans and then my boxers and we’ll go from there.”
Wow, you really know how to talk to the ladies.”
Yeah I do, I got your ass naked, didn’t I?”
She sits up and moves closer towards you. You see a slight glint of light reflect off the smooth curves of her heart shaped ass and you feel the pressure increase on your zipper. She undoes your pants per your instructions and when pulling down your boxers, the button snags on the top of your member, causing her to yank harder until the boxers fall to the floor and your erect dick pops out, coming to attention (no pun), saluting–if your dick could salute (it’s called personification), and almost pokes her in the eye. She proceeds to lower her head and place your member in her mouth and you feel the great warmth that accompanies oral events such as these. You’ve felt more warmth before though, probably because for the last two months, you’ve masturbated ferociously and angrily without any lubricant and there’s more than a bit of sensitivity loss. It still feels great though and it’s about goddamn time.
You know you’re not gonna get off, so you enjoy it for a bit. You even place your hands on the top of her head, pulling her hair back from her face so you can get some visual happiness as well. She stops and looks up at you and says, “I don’t like when guys touch my hair while I’m down here. If I’m doing something wrong, just tell me.”
Right,” you respond.
You’re not really happy with her statement, but she’s got you by the balls, for now, and you’ll do what she prefers until you’re in a better position. As previously said, you know you’re not gonna get off, so you place your hands on her shoulders and motion to the bed and she lays back and spreads her legs. Sex is kinda like math: you add the bed, divide the legs and hope not to multiply. You smirk at recalling the joke, but you’re fairly confident she doesn’t see it and who cares if she did, how does she know that you’re not admiring her incredibly hot body, right?
She’s staring into your eyes as you make your way to the prize. God, I hope it doesn’t smell like a fish market in the middle of the Sahara Desert. You never can be too sure with these things, especially these days. You make your way down with a slight hint of trepidation. You hope she doesn’t see your hesitation as you visualize a bunch of Arabs slapping fish against their palms, yelling at the top of their lungs trying to sell you one, even though you have no idea what they’re saying or even if what they’re barking is Arabic. But you quickly do a sniff test and everything seems alright, nothing offensive. Allah Akbar.
You haven’t even touched her yet, and you see a small globule of female excitement, silently dripping out and down her vagina, grinning all the way to her anus. You start licking the inside of her thighs, lightly gripping them and noticing how soft and taut they are. She moans in excitement. Let’s roll.
You begin licking all around the untidy pile of meat, noticing how she reacts to certain spots and you flick your tongue just barely over her clit and she moans loudly. For some reason however, you’re not feeling it –the whole situation– and you even notice your erection has sadly returned to pre-salute status. She notices your hesitation and grabs the back of your head and tries to press down. You resist it and she screams “I want you inside me, right now.”
No thanks,” you reply, “I’m out of here, I got shit to do.” You quickly find your clothes and put them on, making sure, of course, that your wallet is still there. Wallet, keys, phone…wallet…keys…phone. You make sure all three are in your possession and you quietly walk out the door, all the while noticing she has not said a word and has not moved an inch. You leave the room with an expression on your face, but you’re not quiet sure what it is.
***
I’m Irish, and German too, which means that I like dick and fart jokes, drinking beer, talking too loud and weird sex. The “weird sex” part is because I’m a Scorpio and that’s weird ‘cause I don’t believe in that kind of malarkey. And by malarkey I mean astrology. Being a Scorpio also means I get incredibly jealous with the person I’m in a relationship with. You see, I’m not good with relationships. Or women. ‘Cause I think they’re crazy. All of ‘em. That’s cool though, that’s how they are and I’m learning to deal with it. It use to bug the shit out of me, but now it doesn’t, ‘cause I’ve learned what makes them so crazy, but more on that later.
Recently, I’ve been called an asshole frequently and it used to not get to me, but lately, it has been, and I’ve been trying to figure out why. I used to be women’s male bitch and the first few women I was with walked all over me, like I was a floor mat that said “Wipe heels on this here pussy.” I even checked the back of my shirt a few times in public bathroom mirrors, wondering if I was missing a sign taped there or something. Then one morning, I awoke feeling different. I couldn’t place it at that time, but I later came to learn that I was me. I was asshole. I guess.
Even though I’m an asshole and find women impossible to deal with, because I refuse to be their babysitters, it still hasn’t stopped me from looking for that one woman who I can label “sane” and “compatible. It’s like finding a particular needle in a stack of a million needles. Or finding a fish in the sea that doesn’t smell like, well…fish.
Oh yeah, I think I have a personality disorder too, but I don’t give a shit about that.
***
The unnerving vibrating occurring near your head awakes you from sleep. You’re disorientated and for a second or two you’re not exactly sure what the cause of the vibrating is. Quickly, you come to your senses and realize it’s your cell vibrating. You grab the phone while you give your eyes a quick rub and flip the phone open; your sleep-blurred vision hardly making out the letters splashing neon blue across your face. You eventually force the letters acting upon your retina to focus and you realize it’s Dave, your friend you’ve known since your mom threw her first neighborhood breastfeeding party. That’s a true friend right there. Your only friend. You answer the phone with an expulsion of morning breath, “Whatup, man?”
There is a chuckle of male understanding on the other end of the line, “Long night, kid?”
Though you two are the exact same age, it still has never stopped him from calling you “kid.” And you’ve never stopped telling him to fucking knock it off, either. “Not really. It got cut relatively short, actually.”
There’s a chuckle again, though this time it’s heartier. “Oh yeah? Why’s that? And why short?”
You barely pick up on another one of his lame innuendos. “Funny… No, man, nothing like that.”
Well, what then?”
I’m not sure. I finally got her naked, and, actually, got her naked at her place, which was a nice change.”
Niiice.”
“Yeah, we were actually getting somewhere for fuck’s sake, and I just got this weird gut feeling, I can’t explain it.”
About?”
I’m not sure, man, something was telling me to stop, not to go down that path, ya know? So I did, I stopped and told her I had shit to do.”
There is a burst of laughter in your earpiece that causes you to pull the phone away from your head in order to save yourself a year of hearing. At the end of my years, right? “You did what!?”
Yeah,” you reply. “I stopped right in the middle of it and left; she didn’t move an inch. You should have seen the look on her face.”
Stopped in the middle of what?”
Heading south for the winter. “Ya know, I was down amongst the meat of it all.”
And you just stopped, got up, and left?”
Right.”
Wow,” Dave replies. There is a medium length pause. “I’ve never given a woman blue balls before.”
You give a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, man, I didn’t think about it like that, but yeah, I guess I did.”
You think you’re gonna keep seein’ this girl?” Dave asks.
I don’t think she’s gonna be seeing me.”
Yeah, good point,” Dave says through a chuckle. “Well, I want to hear this story in all its glory, beer and pool later tonight?”
Sure man, sounds good, I’ll give you a call.”
Alright, buddy.”
Later.”
“Later.”
You give the End button a thumb and toss the cell phone on the bed and hop in the shower.