can we talk?
i heard an astonishing admission from a lady today. a lady who is within my age decade. who...(hold on) - was, in the not too distant past, having sex 8 times a day.
my vagina gasped when she heard it.
i said to my vagina, "see, there are some things a mouth gasp just can't cover."
first thought, i never see these things coming! alas my wonderment lasted less time then the aforementioned gasp - then of course, i wanted to enter the sex story throw down..
"think," i said to my vagina, "think, what's our daily record?"
she sighed, paused..... "it's hard to remember these things, maybe three times but, honey we were twenty."
" ok, veegee," i say, " let's go for odd or unusual."
as this internal monologue is reving up. i realize, ladygirl is still saying stuff....
fuck, i suck at long-term listening. fuck, what has she said. okay, its okay, she is talking about how much in love they were, so i don't think she is going to spill anymore tea. i think she feels secure in her win and really, why in christ's name shouldn't she.
but then, just as i'm taking a sip through my turtle-killing plastic straw...
my vagina says "hey i've got something. remember the married fireman you slept with a bunch of times. i mean, not in one day but spread out over a college semester. "
"why yes," i say "he had those missing toes."
"yes," says veegee, "i'm just saying even if we can't win "rapid relaid" we could get an honourable mention for that weird thing you became obsessed with over the missing toes"
"ah, yes," i say "my version of early instagram"
it was the best of times. it was the most reckless of times. things were all very thrilling and sexy...... secret hook ups at local motels.... until, "sock removal night" when, like a young jessica fletcher, i discovered the gap of three missing middle toes on his right foot and how that gap formed a sort of three sided picture frame. as the trysts continued i became more and more fascinated with what i could see through that space and less interested in the sex part. i wanted the laying on the bed afterwards with his legs stretched out, where if i got the angle right i could see through the window outside and have perfect toe framed trees. or when he walked around smoking i stared at the carpet pattern pictures i was capturing. i never said, "hey fireman, on the the whole, the sex bit is getting very pedestrian for me but i'm going to lay here, patiently, while you finish up because i think there's a good chance of me getting a frosted windowpane toe shot tonight.
in the end it served him right. what business did a 34 year old married man have hooking up with an 18 year old - an 18 year old, i might add, with the attention span of head louse and a heart as black as an old whore's twat. well, maybe not that black. i did love that gap.