Posts tagged with "sex"

Ersatz

This looks famil­iar.

A place I’ve been, a feel­ing I’ve had, a girl I fucked one night in the fall.

Back then she cried. Lying in bed next to me, she told me she was sor­ry. I believed her, but I did­n’t trust the tears, because she knew how much it turns me on. She got what she want­ed any­way, and I sup­pose I did too.

That was the last night I saw her.

And now this. A replace­ment who used my shots, my con­cept, my idea, and called it des­tiny.

But it isn’t can­did enough. It’s too forced. Unnatural. As if she’s try­ing too hard again to cap­ture what was lost, and what she could have had.

So she found anoth­er ver­sion, and used him in my place.

Sex and Chocolate

It’s a gen­er­al­ly accept­ed rule that sex is a good thing and choco­late is a good thing so by log­i­cal impli­ca­tion, sex and choco­late must be a very good thing.

I tied the red rib­bon from the box of choco­lates around her neck, the pen­dant a plas­tic heart.

Sex Drugged

Man does not live by words alone, despite the fact that some­times he has to eat them.

—Adlai E. Stevenson Jr.

It’s after din­ner, and while her par­ents are putting the dish­es away down­stairs, she’s going down on me, lying on her pink sheets, pants pulled down to my knees. Her broth­er’s in his room next door, and I’m pressed up against the wall that sep­a­rates us. In my quick­ened breath she hears that I’m on the verge of moan­ing, and keeps me in check with an embar­rased shush.

Without a means to express my plea­sure, all I can say is that I love her.

It was­n’t true. I was just lost in the moment, addict­ed to the heat of her tongue.

A week lat­er, we broke up.

This is why they have the insan­i­ty plea. When you catch your wife in bed with anoth­er man. When you tell some­one that you love them, because you’re intox­i­cat­ed, get­ting the best head you’ve ever had in your life.

And to this day what I regret the most was­n’t the con­flict I caused in her fam­i­ly with my even­tu­al absence, or the tak­ing of her vir­gin­i­ty, or dat­ing some­one else the day after we broke up.

It was that I could­n’t con­trol my words for those ten lit­tle min­utes.

Virgin

Do you remem­ber your first time?

It was her first time too. Her face con­tort­ed, a regret­ful­ly painful look, but quick­ly relaxed as her eyes rolled back. You were scared when she bled, but she begged not to stop. How strange it was to be so close to some­one, so face-to-face. You thought you knew what inti­ma­cy was, until you were inside her and kiss­ing her lips simul­ta­ne­ous­ly. Shhhhh, they’re right under­neath us. You nev­er imag­ined it’d feel so hot.

Do you remem­ber her first time? It was safe because her sis­ter was busy enough with her own boyfriend. You went beneath her skirt, recall­ing how dis­tract­ing such a sim­ple piece of pleat­ed, plaid mate­r­i­al could be when walk­ing behind her in the hall. She made no sound, and you began to doubt whether she was com­fort­able any­more.

Do you remem­ber her first time? It was at the end of sum­mer, when the days were get­ting short­er. You had the win­dows open, and waft­ing through the room was the smell of healthy trees and sun­set air. Even though the breeze was cool and dry, she was hot and sweat­ing against you on her broth­er’s bed. You were lis­ten­ing for the swing and slam of the back screen-door, but all you were think­ing about was how good it felt to final­ly touch her bare, sticky skin. There was no ner­vous­ness any­more. She trust­ed you with devo­tion, as you guid­ed her through her blos­som­ing sex­u­al­i­ty.

Do you remem­ber her first time? It was your first time too. You had always want­ed to save this for mar­riage, but you were both caught in the moment, and her dirty mouth would­n’t stop prod­ding you. She once told you how she had always imag­ined being tied up, some­one tak­ing this from her by force. It was too late now, and she want­ed this as much as you did. Her screams were almost rude­ly loud in your ear, but there was indi­ca­tion of pain in her voice. Afterward, she had take a moment to col­lect her­self before she could speak, mak­ing a remark about how com­fort­ing it was to still feel you inside her.

They say that we always remem­ber our first time.

But do they remem­ber you?

Yoghurt And Rice

Someone used a yoghurt and rice exam­ple on me the oth­er day. In his beau­ti­ful Lebanese accent, he told me, “It’s like yoghurt and rice. I can explain it to you, but you won’t under­stand until you try it for your­self.” There must be sev­er­al oth­er ways of say­ing the same thing, but the most inter­est­ing I’ve ever heard was two exam­ples at once: Taco Bell and anal sex.

Now I’m dying to try yoghurt and rice. I’m guess­ing that it would only work if it’s white rice (jas­mine fra­granced would be neu­tral enough), and a plain, non-fruity, yoghurt.