-Whew!-
That was something, huh? Eight seconds of passion plus about two minutes where nobody watching would be able to tell if anything was still happening.
Oof. So listen. We’re gonna be stuck here for a while. I don’t really know why. It just happens. We kind of just have to wait here for something to happen. Or stop happening. I don’t know why I always forget about this part when I initiate the sex.
Don’t get me wrong, it was fun sex and all. But it sort of takes away from some of the worth-it-ness when we’re uncomfortably stuck like this.
Ugh. I just. You know how after you sometimes think back at the weird noises and the grosser parts and just sort of feel like it would be great to take a shower and then maybe do a nice apricot scrub or something? Something with a little grit in there to really get off all the sex feelings?
I guess this is as good a time as any for apologies. For the sex. And also for not thinking to put a magazine or something on the nightstand for you. To pass the time. And then, once again just to nicely bookend the apology sandwich, again, I know the sex was really horrific. Not in that fun way where someone gets tied up or spanked or something. Just like watching a small child play baseball. Just weak flails and a lot of limp-wristed shots at god knows.
Hey, I have a hypothetical. Okay, imagine you meet the perfect guy. He’s a 10 on every level. Looks, money, looks of his butt. The only thing is, he drinks about a 12 ounce glass of his own pee every morning from a clear glass, and you have to watch this happen. Would that be a deal-breaker for you? What if he was like, a 7?
You know, what’s funny is that the pee question, I thought it would be LESS uncomfortable than the last conversation I had when I did this. THAT one was a doozy.
Maybe I just need to get unaroused. I’ll close my eyes. Nope, that doesn’t help. That just adds mystique. Okay, eyes open. That doesn’t work either. Maybe one eye open, one closed? Or I could look at my hand or something?
Do you, do you think you could tell me a really unsexy story? You didn’t have the same math teacher as me, did you? Damn. Because sometimes I think about me having sex with her to try and slow things down. It’s mean, I know. But it’s effective.
Okay. Well. Hmm. I guess I’ll just start telling you about why I didn’t really think the Wii was as bad a video game console as everyone else. It’s a long tale, but I think it’s one you’ll really enjoy on a level where when people ask how your date went you’ll be able to explain by simply saying I talked for an hour and a half about how the Nintendo Wii isn’t that bad.