Monday, June 2, 2008

EB

He undressed hurriedly and looked almost comical. Like one of those Bugs Bunny cartoons where Bugs wears a costume to taunt the little guy with the moustache, then speeds away leaving the clothes.

He was tipsy, and had a hard time removing his belt. My fingers felt for the buckle and helped him undress. He was quite drunk. I on the other hand, drank only enough beer to lower my inhibitions, but my mind was a sharp as it could be. I could remember every detail of his condo: mattress on the floor, a divider which held the large TV and Playstation, and the bathroom door just opposite the kitchen.

Ok, I told mysef. His clothes are off, and now it’s your turn. Don’t be self conscious, you look great! Stop storyboarding the whole scene. Stop looking into his eyes, damn it!

His hands held my back and we were kissing. His hair felt nice on my fingers. I massaged the back of his neck a little.

Remember, this is just about tonight. You are not going to marry the guy. I reminded myself. So I dove in.

He was quite athletic. We did it standing up, sideways, supine, prone- you name it. Minutes later, he was already softly snoring. I pulled the covers up to look at the guy beside me.

This EB thing has really gotten old, I told myself. The usual line they say afterwards is that, “We should see each other again.” And then close the door on you. I know the routine- this is the nth time I’ve done it with someone I’ve met over the internet.

It upset me before; how guys get intimate with another person then just walk away like nothing happened. I’d usually have this quiet time in the nook of his arms just thinking if the romance could go further. How could they do it? Have sex and not have this emotional attachment?

His lips were bow-shaped. It made him look cherubic. Did I really think I’d find the love of my life over the internet? He stirred, and then opened his eyes.

“It’s late, I have to go.”

“You can sleep over.” He said.

“I have an early day tomorrow.” I started putting on my clothes.

“Ok then.”

I looked at the yuppie in front of me, and felt no usual pangs of separation anxiety. I smiled and walked to the door.
“Call me sometime.” I said, and meant it. This one’s a great lay and I wouldn’t want to miss out on that cute butt. Anyway, another chatter also wanted to meet up with me this weekend.

I closed the door and walked towards the elevators. Congratulations, I told myself. You just had sex like a man.

1 comment:

James said...

How very Sex and the City. I wish I can have sex like a man at all times.

We really should come with an emotional switch we can turn on or off and not depend on logic alone.