Two weeks pass.
I'm working and it's late and lo and behold, she
shows up from thin air. I ask her where she went that night instead of
my apartment and replied something along the lines of she kind of got
cold feet at the last minute and ducked out to a friends house to get
high. She fell asleep and then just went home. It
wouldn't be the first time I would have heard this explanation.
The
next day, there's a note left on the windshield of my car. She wants to
see me again, and this time promises no ducking out or anything. Yeah,
whatever I tell myself as I get in the car and set the note in the
passenger seat. Her phone number is on the note, so reluctantly I call
it, thinking that this is probably a non-working number.
She
answers after the third ring, and we proceed to make small talk. She
rambles on about how she enjoyed that night, how relaxing and refreshing
it all was to her. She was really going out of her way to butter me up,
but I kept wincing because her voice projects Fran Drescher in the deep
south visual. I tell her I'm open to getting together for the
proverbial dinner and the movie date, because I know there's something
there on a sexual level that I would be an idiot not to seize. She
agrees that we should do the date, but then surprises me when she
arrives knocking on my door a couple hours later. I thought I told her
in a couple of days, but I won't squash any enthusiasm. Maybe this girl
DID dig me...
So once again, in my apartment, we are sitting
there making small talk, delaying what we really want to do, to come off
as if we're each more about the whole person than the sex. The delusion
breaks shortly after all topics of conversation had been exhausted,
and the embrace and the kissing picks up from that night in the bar.
Heated and sloppy, like two novices attempting a professional sport. My
immediate problem is I am in the 4th gear of gratification. I want to
remove clothes and begin things proper but she wants to go nice and
slow.
"I'm not a slut," she moans as her skin flushes out red
while I kiss her neck. I manage one hand up her shirt, slowly circling
her right breast with my hand, while my other hand is placed on her
crotch. It's like I'm some chef checking on the oven to make sure it's
heating up properly. Her hand is rested in my lap, trailing up towards
the belt, when...
A knock on the front door.
She gets away
from me and leans towards the other side of the couch. I get up, trying
to think of every mundane and rather cold thing to myself to reduce the
erection I was sporting too obviously. The knock goes off again. I get
to the door and unlock it and then I see..
My ex-girlfriend.
to be continued....
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