808

Wine and sushi she was thinking the same thing. I should have called earlier but my eyes were set upon the view master and caught up in Michelle Pfeiffer’s gown. Mine truly had another date. The cognac is good but the clove taste better. Expect nothing. I won’t. We both know we’ll wake up tonight fucking. One more night in her cunt. One more taste of her honey. One more sip. I’ll sit on your face and tell you lies. Rim me…rim you. Vroom—

I definitely smoke too much. I managed successfully to kick the habit for a decade and this past April I was suddenly cut of my previous oral fixation and so had to commence to a new vice. Cockatiels, they’re fucking annoying and God, as my savior, the waitress arrived. I scoped her up and down, inside and out. Oblivious to my needs hence my desire, she refilled my water. I’d initiate conversation or make some comment on the weather if I felt other than she could fucking careless. She jerked her head to the right in every attempt to avoid eye contact. Her eyes forcibly half shut as if there was a persistent ringing in her ears. Ha! I’m sooooooo getting… actually, I’m not, I can’t…mine truly will call and there’s nowhere I’d rather be than in our nakedness.

“Excuse me, Ms., can I have my bill?”

Homeward bound. Feed fat cat, pack bag, and shower. Shower, wash the nasty bits, and rinse the nasty bits. Don’t forget the strap- on and oh, the anti-depressants.
She’ll call. The earlier the better then I’ll know she hasn’t swapped spit or cum. I know. I know. She has her reasons. She plays by her own rules. I love her that much. I don’t understand. I don’t get it but I try so I get some. I let her be so she’ll eventually come home to me or perhaps I just need to suffer a massive blow to the head to render me unconscious. My Mother would clench her teeth to hold back the vulgarity if she knew. My Father would be speechless too but simulate a high five behind my Ma’s back. Yeah, so much for the sophisticated ladies. Anyway, their pubs taste of last Sunday’s sermon. Face it, Mother will never be happy. That mother-child bond when you’re suckling her breasts will forever repeat in her unconscious. No other ,regardless of gender will be good enough so why bother wasting precious time scouting the ‘perfect’ mate which btw, doesn’t exist here or there. By precious time, I mean between legs with thigh (girl thighs in my case obviously), as ear muffs especially during a Seattle winter, I like to hibernate.

22:24. I checked my cell for the fourth time thinking again, I’ve missed her call. My heart now in my stomach. I know she is with her. The butch blond. She doesn’t even like blondes or so she says. Perhaps this one has a bigger strap on.

I hate myself today. I am so bitter. I am alone. I wonder if I’ll ever get the girl.
I thought I did when my friend read aloud the ad. Yes, another woman had seen me, twice. I knew it was her. This is when the one night stand turned into another eighty- nine. I’ve never dated such a woman so strikingly beautiful nor young. Yes, almost two decades young. That should have been enough of a warning that I should proceed with caution. She should of threw out my toothbrush and sent me on my way. She told me she would hurt me. She would break my heart. I broke hers first.
I know you’re (just) as curious as I. You fight the urge. You fight your heart. Tachycardic tatter on the keyboard. ‘She wants Revenge’ buzzing the PC speakers. I know ‘The Organ’ and ‘Tegan and Sara’ will follow. With my best interest in mind, a corneal abrasion to her right eye hinders my departure. I’ll offer a quick exam and then sent to flip off the lights. I got the lights so one would assume I was Top but I can’t confirm my position. I remember the kiss, the every second of her leaning in. As a song from ‘The Long Blondes,’ plays for her new love interest. She fetches a beer for herself and a jagged square of peppermint bark for moi. Her attempt to sober me so I can put up the damn shower curtain. Two sentimentals from my artwork abruptly misplaced off canvas. It did meet its doom in a dumpster nearby. Snapped in two where my painted heart lays under 808. Oddly, to my surprise, I am sort of butt hurt. However, my vulnerability bares no witness. Tonight we are to spoon. I am holding you tight, my chin nested in the crevice of your shoulder. My nose pressed upon your skin. The scent of pomegrate and I can feel it in my naughty bits. Your hair rich and shiny as sapphire. You are irritated that I can’t remain still. You are as moody as the ring. Not long and the sighs have turned into shallow breaths. My thoughts linger to the Friday prior when I dirty texted you meanwhile jerking off in my buddy’s Escalade. Then to later that evening when I not so gracefully peed in a coffee cup to avoid Mother Nature and the PoPo. Yeah, the same night you fucked a straight girl in the bathroom in her boyfriend’s house. Surprisingly, you didn’t get plummeted. You said it sucked but the experience is gold. I get mad. I’d rather not hear your stories of lust and stupidity. I’d like to think I was enough to be your lover. Tomorrow we’ll go to the sex shop. I think I need a thicker cock.
You were right you can be ugly. I saw it tonight. Four months. I should have known when I glanced a second time and hesitated to fuck you.

You told me you loved me while drinking too much. You told me you loved me one morning while sleeping sober. You must have loved me. My feelings remain twisted. I hardly embrace her. My arms are weak. I dwell in self-pity and doubt. I wish she would prove me wrong. I’ve managed to lose myself in her. Trapped. She’s crushing on an ex-cop. Clutching her gin and tonic, she’s trying to convince me that this may be the one. I can’t help but to smirk and as she rambles on about this chiseled boi toy, I can’t disguise my disgust. She’s already made Thanksgiving plans in December. I would love tea and a game of chess with Papa. I’ve crossed the line. You no longer feel safe. I can’t look at myself in the mirror. My actions blow my mind wildly. I’m like a pre pubescent boy minus the acne.

The more you ignore me, all the more I desire you. Your bitchiness is biting. Unfortunately, I’m on the other side and you must serve me. You intentionally forget how I like my coffee. I tighten my belt amidst the deafening silence. I can feel your piercing eyes dooming me to hell. I want to ask how you are. Evidently, better before I trespassed.

I’ve tapped that ass a few times. Bareback.