1) For every girl who is sexually active but uses zero form of birth control (pulling out doesn’t count as birth control, but it’s what I use), seeing that ever so slight shade of pink on the toilet paper when she first starts her period is the most wonderful sensation ever.
2) I don’t think I want to cheat on my boyfriend. Let me tell you a story:
A couple of weeks ago I went to the bar and noticed another man when he sat down a few seats over. He was huge and hunky (he’s a fucking fireman–just kill me now). He had a goatee. Dark hair. Full lips. Strong jaw. Big hands. Oh my god, his hands… He was probably the most attractive piece of man meat I had seen in a very, very long time. We started to talk. We got along. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I never mentioned my boyfriend. He walked me to my car. We talked some more then said, in a very nice way, “well, then let me get your phone number and we’ll meet up again.” I told him I didn’t have a phone number to give out. He looked confused, then said “okay,” and was polite and wished me a good night.
As I drove away, I noticed that, for the first time since meeting my fiance, I wanted to sleep with someone else. Sure, I’ve felt the urge to turn a trick, but this time, it was a specific person, and it was because I wanted *him* to stick *his* dick in me and fuck the living shit out of me. It wasn’t about money or games or power. It was about being so physically attracted to another man that I wanted him to tear me to pieces. It wasn’t me looking for an experience that I could have with pretty much any random stranger to be fulfilled, it was me wanting to have sex with one particular man who is not my fiance.
I saw him a few days later again. This time, most of the seats were taken, and my purse occupied the seat next to mine (yes, I do it on purpose so I decide who sits there). Fireman looked around for a place to sit, and I said, “you can sit here if you want, you know,” and he set his jacket on the chair, ordered a beer, and then went to the bathroom. I had been telling my bartender about this guy not a moment before he walked in, and that I had had those… urges for him, so I told him that I had to leave before fireman came back. He said, “well then, why the hell did you invite him to sit next to you?” Damnit. Ya got me.
I saw him last night. The bar was mostly empty (it’s small). He sat at the other end with some nerdy guys and they talked politics. I heard him ask another guy, “are you some kind of conspiracy theorist?” That made me like him more. We made eye contact once, and I immediately looked away. Then, he was watching me first, then he caught my eye, and he had his glass up and made a gesture to say “hello.” When the bar closed, I went to the bathroom first, while he and the conspiracy theorists went outside and continued their discussion in the parking lot. When I came out, I walked past them to my car, and he waved and said goodnight. Of course I smiled flirtatiously and said goodnight.
I then went home and fantasized about him in a myriad of ways. First, we just talk for a while outside of his car. He’s so sweet, and I’ve been so fickle, so I know I have to take the lead, and I just open up the door and climb into the back seat and he follows me. I imagine we start kissing, he runs his hands over me, slides them up my skirt, pulls my cosabella boyshorts aside and starts to finger me. I pull his dick out and I find–to my utter and extreme delight–that he is uncircumcised and huge. I go crazy, and I jump on him, taking his cock into my mouth and furiously sucking up and down while he fingers me with two fingers until I squirt all over his leather seats. When I cum it turns him on so much that he shoots into my mouth and I swallow the whole thing in one gulp, but of course I still squeeze his dick until I get every drop onto my tongue and down my throat. Of course we have to end it there because I have a boyfriend and sex would be too much.
Then, in the next fantasy, that whole idea goes out the window. We are at his place. I am on the couch, my legs spread open off the edge, and he’s on his knees, fucking me at the edge of the couch. His dick goes so deep and hard and hits me in that magic spot and I cum and I squirt all over him. He fucks me for a few more minutes just to watch me squirm, then decides he wants to cum in my mouth. He stands up, and I’m still sitting on the couch. He shoves his cock in my mouth, grabbing my head with both hands and skull fucking me. I get so turned on I have to rub my clit while I take him down my throat. Once he starts to cum and grunt and shoot delicious juice into my mouth, I cum too in excitement. I don’t know what happens after that.
The third scenario was the one I had while my boyfriend was in bed next to me. This time, we’re both in his car, in the front seats with the console between us, and we’re listening to music for a while and eventually we discuss our mutual attraction, and my unfortunate attachment. This time, I compromise by saying I can only play with myself, but he can watch. Of course, he takes out that giant uncut cock to pleasure himself, but I still can’t help myself. I start sucking his dick and I stick my pussy in the air and grab his hand and slide his fingers into me. He finger fucks me while he’s in my mouth and as soon as I begin to taste his cum, I squirt on his hand and it splashes on the seat and drips down my legs. Or course I milk him for all he’s worth.
I had these thoughts in my head all day. This morning I sucked my fiance’s dick because I just wanted Fireman’s cock in my mouth so much. Then I made my fiance fuck me–hard–and I imagined Fireman’s dick in my pussy and hands on my throat. But the whole time, I knew it was my fiance fucking me, and it was great. He did an awesome job. [Editorial note: he’s been much better at the oral sex lately, but I am actually on my period right now, and I don’t really expect anyone to chow down at that time.]
Tonight I decided I wanted to see Fireman again. I drove through the parking lot to see if his car was there already. It was. When I walked in, he was sitting next to my favorite seat (the seat I was in the night before, of course). with another woman. I was so relieved. I was hoping he was on a date, maybe setting a boundary, but whatever the case, it would be the perfect time to mention my boyfriend. Of course, he said hello when I sat down. I was friendly about it, but I ended it immediately to ask the bartender about what was on tap. I read a book for a few minutes, then his lady friend started talking to me. I was listening to their conversation some, and I realized it wasn’t a date; they were friends and she was actually obsessed with another man at the time. Fireman got up to go to the bathroom and Kendra almost immediately introduced herself and started talking to me. It was almost as if (and this could just be the narcissist in me) Fireman had said something about me before I arrived (or maybe whispered it while I was reading or ordering), and she was trying to access my availability for her friend. I’ve done things like that before; it was a possibility. While he was away, I mentioned my boyfriend. When he came back, neither she nor I brought it up.
Even though I didn’t mention it, it got to a point where I was pretty sure I didn’t need to if it wasn’t natural to the thread of the conversation. As I heard him talk more about himself and his life, I discovered he was a person. He has feelings. He’s not just the meat machine I thought I was looking for. If I brought him into my world, I would destroy him. I saw his destruction. I saw him weak, and I saw him with that “why doesn’t she love me?” face. I hate that face. I saw that he would try to win my affection, and I saw that he would drain me. I absolutely cannot stand the thought of another person needing me to give them emotions.
I’ve already agreed to ride this ride because it agrees with me. Even if Fireman is a hunka-hunka burnin’ love, I don’t think there’s any amount of uncircumcised dick (my faaaaaaavorite) that could make me try to care about a different human being than the one I’m with. I made my decision a long time ago (the night we met, actually). I’m just sick of having to get to know another person’s emotions, and I don’t want to have to learn about yet another’s. That’s not to say that I don’t, in some way, enjoy the challenges that my fiance poses: I know that I need to be better, and he helps me with that. He helps me be more tolerant. It’s work, but I’ve always enjoyed challenges, and I truly believe that I am capable of anything.
And of course, I thought about what would happen if my fiance found out. I imagine it would be come out in a situation where my fiance and I went to the bar together, and Fireman sees us, hurt from my fucking his lights out then abandoning him for my fiance, and here we were together, all over one another like we usually are (I really only know how to express myself physically, so I show him my love with constant touching and kissing–I very rarely use words). I imagine Fireman makes some kind of smart comment, not fully giving away the truth, and of course, Fiance doesn’t know any better, so he sticks up for himself (and me), but by the end of the night, it won’t sit right with him. We’ll go home and he’ll know it. He’ll get angry. He’ll throw things, grab me, and slam doors. He’ll sleep in the guest bedroom. The next day he won’t talk to me. The second day he’ll tell me to leave. And then it will all be over. I’ll have to start all over from scratch. Do you know how hard it is for me to find someone I agree with? And then, to find someone I agree with for more than a few months? I’m getting too old for this game.
Tonight, Kendra, Fireman, and I were all talking about the virtues of my hometown versus our current town. I actually prefer the new place, but no one can believe that this little shithole has more to offer me than a famous city. The bartender (who knew that I almost lost my shit with this guy before) loudly interjected that I “came here to settle down.” It’s true. I’ve decided on this future: husband, kids, in-laws (I love my in-laws; my mother-in-law is a super sweet, generous chef, and my father-in-law is a scientist and we drink bourbon and discuss everything from cosmology to the psychology of feral cats). The life I have is the life I want. This is what I have always wanted. I have always wanted to be on a team of two. We’ll have allies, for sure, but I’ve always wanted to share my awesomeness with someone else, and to have another person teach me what love means. As much as my mother didn’t turn out a sociopath (she’s actually very empathic towards a lot of people, especially strangers), she’s always been a tit-for-tat kind of person. I was a fat kid, so if I ever wanted something, I would have to lose weight to earn it. She wouldn’t buy me a car (not that I really thought she had to, I was fine with public transit as it was all I knew and I’m kind of a hippie), until I enrolled in her favorite college (and of course, it took her three years to provide her end of the bargain that she offered [mind you, I paid for college 100% out of my own funds–savings bond left by a relative, straight work, and flatbacking–except for one small loan for which we co-signed to help build my credit, but which I had paid back completely within one year]. My fiance’s family doesn’t make me write out a payment plan on loans they give us. They don’t even give us “loans”. They just give us money when they know we’re struggling. They don’t expect us to pay it back, but I recently got a new job that would allow me to pay them back 200% in 12 months if I choose (it’s a slow start kind of position, but “residuals” is a beautiful word). They haven’t asked for that, not at all, not even moderately implied, but I imagine that’s what I would do for them when I was able. Perhaps I will simply put the money into a savings account of some kind (whatever has the best return) to allow for my in-laws to be well cared for when they are too old to care for themselves (whether we build an in-law unit or set them up someplace swanky). But everything my mom has loaned me, I have paid back according to her terms, which are always in the short term.
I saw the future. I couldn’t stand to lose this one, and I couldn’t stand to give a shit about the other. I have it really good where I am. He’s on his way home now, and when he gets here, I’m going to shove my face into his chest hair.
loveablesociopath 