Sunday, April 17, 2011

Not Even Porn Stars Like It

It had been a month, maybe more. Sometimes I just lose track of the time, and it's too late by the time it occurs to me that I 'should' have done it, or at least let it happen. Once in a while I become disgusted with it after watching something on BBC, or reading something horrific, and all too "normal". I'm often hormonal, and uninterested two weeks out of the month, I only want it 24 weeks per year which really limits the opportunity, however it is completely conducive to the way of biology. According to "the law of averages" and my best friend Nicki, there is only a window about 7 days per month when it actually counts. The rest of the time it's just a "bonus" or extra work after a long day. Nonetheless, I gave into it.

Maybe that's the wrong way to put it and it would be better to say "we" gave into it. It probably wasn't one of the wasted attempts. Evolutionary attempts anyways, we weren't trying anything, because that would be stupid and while we're still human we're of "those" kind that would sooner die off, then create more idiots. We're young minded. I'm worried we would forget about it, and it might drown. Then I would have to deal with the loss of a family member, and manslaughter at the same time. That sounds stressful. I would rather deal with the itching of "false skin", that never feels natural, because it can't. We don't actually deal with false skin though, rather the trusted pull out method. Pop goes the weazle and it rains goo. What can you do?

The blood spot on the wall was residual. The gut explosion of those nasty bugs I smashed six months prior. I stared at it. I can only come once or twice before my mind wanders. Malaria. They have Malaria. I don't have sickle cell aenemia, which means I won't die from sickle cell aenemia, but it also means I'm not protected from Malaria. Catch-fucking-twenty-two.

"I want to cum in your face". He says.
I turn and look at him.
"No. I don't want to wash my hair tomorrow".
"Why no!?"
Then I realize, if I say no it's going to kill the excitement and he's going to take longer to finish. Five more minutes and I will have let my mind wander into god knows what subject and that could be painful for the both of us.
"Oh, I meant Si, Si, Yes".
He speeds up. I can tell he's going to finish so position my feet. I'm a puma.
"Vieni, come here" he says, and pulls out holding his penis ready to take aim.

"No fucking way!" And I leap off of the bed and run across the room.
I turn once I reach the other side. He's laughing hysterically, penis in hand, on his knees. There's spray everywhere. Our puppy has taken his usual shelter under the bed and I can see his eyes poking out at me. My boyfriend, unable to control his balance, his orgasm, and his laughter at the same time, he falls off of the bed disappearing into the small two feet space on the other side of where I stand. I walk over and peak down at him now laughing too.

"I love you." He says smiling.
"I know." Lie down and wait for him to get up. Trying to remind myself that this is why I love him. For the next 200 times I hate the sound of him breathing, I should remember this.

We fall asleep.


2 comments:

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  2. Damn I wrote a great comment on this text yesterday and it has vanished--guess I missed a button. First I mentioned your bravery for exposing the most intimate details--kudos there. Also I noted that I liked this more than some of your other texts--not only because I am a horny old man or because it's funny--but because you start with thoughts out of context and so interior as to lose us for a few paragraphs before you get to the "story." All to say that in creative non fiction I like the creative part more as otherwise I feel like the filthy voyeur that most of contemporary culture makes me want to feel, is attempting to reduce me to, I hate. The writing I think is also better the more inside and trippy you are--it gets sloppy and annoyingly colloquial the more real you get, like Duchamps said, you seem to be filling in the spaces sometimes rather than engaging the spirits. And, dude, we KNOW that Porn Stars LOVE IT! (You are not gonna take my fantasies away from me!)

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