Like a sex, Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash
I came back from Barcelona empty-handed, and I was still hungry. I thought that the period of dearth was over. It seems that even in Spain, the opportunities are dwindling.
That’s also getting older. Single friends who are always ready to party are becoming more homebound. And then, celibacy, they do not know any more… Ladies, they, found sword to their sheath! Far from being bitter, I am happy for them… But please, can we go out???!!
No, because it’s rarely in a restaurant or at a dinner with girls that you meet your prince charming. Or if not prince, at least a charming penis!
First opportunity in Bordeaux since I’m staying there: a Saturday night, with several friends, and the promise to party until dawn.
The failure… No sex tonight.
From the beginning, I can feel it, the night out is going to slip through my fingers. When half of us had too much to drink the night before, the other half wanted to have a few pints and go to sleep.
Finally, I’m the only one on fire. Yes, I drank too much, yes I’m unbearable… But you said we would partyyyy…
After a deplorable service, two pints too many to go to bed, everyone separates. And me… I’m left with my energy, my frustration and my libido.
An unusual compliment
After a last wave to my friends, I walk away, catching the tram. My heart (well, the other heart, the one that beats between my legs) is heavy. I see myself living again four months of sexual desert, and my gourd is already empty.
And then, from nowhere, a man appears. He is tall and a little strong. Muscular or fat, the future will tell me. He doesn’t look very mean, he has nice eyes, and a nice smile. I don’t dodge him.
What does he want? Anyway, I have time, the street is still full of people, I don’t feel threatened in any way. A kind of innate kindness emanates from him.
And then he gives me the weirdest compliment I’ve ever been given: “You have a beautifully symmetrical face. Really, it’s perfectly symmetrical”.
Uh, okay… So you’ll talk to my 3rd grade orthodontist, who had convinced me otherwise (My chin would not be in line… 🤷♀️). But after all, we’ll take it.
No matter the compliment, I’ll take it, it’s rare enough to keep!
Come on, let’s give him a chance…
Well ok, we are far from Brad Pitt and I have a big doubt about the physical shape of the young man, but for the effort… So I suggest him to go for a very last drink together. To get to know each other.
This drink is clearly not helpful to my inebriation, and I choose a Chouffe (8% beer). Wisdom will lose me.
He wants to know everything, he asks me a thousand questions. I’m far too talkative, I take pleasure in spreading my life. Frankly, I listen to myself talk, but it makes me feel good. We do ourselves good as we can…
And then, without warning, he gets up and comes to kiss me. He kisses well. Oh, what the hell, looks are one thing, but chemistry is another. I kiss him again. He lit the gas of my libido, he’ll have to hurry up and put out the fire before it explodes!
I encourage him to finish my glass, I do not want to miss the mark because of two sips of too much. And hop, we leave the place.
Ah, and I paid! Mister had lost his credit card the same evening. Cheap strategy or truth, nobody will say it.
On the way, the temperature rises. We have about fifteen minutes of walking, and we stop every 100 meters to kiss and make out under a porch.
I’m feeling beastly. Tonight, it’s going to be your party, you big man from nowhere.
Arrived, at his place, I hardly observe the big two rooms appartment. I freak out a little, when he locks the bedroom door. “So that the cats don’t get in…”. Well, I hope I haven’t met a madman. Although in terms of mental savagery, at that moment, I think I surpassed him.
I throw myself on him. Fortunately for him, my excitement is at its peak. His body is, as I feared, really not athletic. If I don’t base my attraction only on some pecs and abs, I expect a little less… fat.
No, but it’s true, I don’t go to the gym to sleep with men who don’t care about their weight at all. Yes, I’m a little bit fat-phobic, but I take care of myself.
I don’t care about those extra pounds right now. Except that…
The machine doesn’t start anymore.
If in the beginning, it was clearly doing the job. Too much alcohol kills alcohol. Maybe I should have kept those last sips of Chouffe for myself after all.
The branch is bending. Ouch.
It’s long and laborious, I almost want to give up. But after a good hour, I finally get it right! Hallelujah, the reed has regained its strength!
I am exhausted. With precaution, I dodge a little the cuddle, and I fall asleep relieved.
More efficient in the morning
In the morning, when my alarm clock rings at 8:30 (my DIY duties are calling me…), the young man is excited. This time, his sword is well drawn out of its scabbard.
Yes, I’m still a little excited. But I have a terrible headache and I don’t want to get on top of him. Come on, I did all the work last night, now it’s your turn.
He gets into the game. It’s not bad, I even take myself to please him.
But here’s the thing, if he’s so eager to please me. He doesn’t do it well, only my fingers deliver me. And that frustrates him. He decided not to give up.
Except that my little one, you’re almost starting to hurt me rubbing my button like that. It’s not a bathroom tile!
I end up ducking out to take a shower. He tries again, joining me. Sorry, my little cat, but I’m in a hurry.
Recently separated, he is like full of hope to see me again. And me… Well, I don’t want to. It’s silly, and I feel bad about it, but it’s not even just physical.
He is too sweet, too voluble in compliments, I have the impression this morning that it sounds false. Faced with his frustrated little face, when I leave, I make the mistake of asking him for his number.
Naughty girl, I already know I’ll never call him back. Ah, and when I write down his name, it’s an abysmal void.
So Farewell, Unknown number 19.