Maybe all that feminist stuff fucked her mind, years ago. Along with a ton of guys like Henry Sedgwick, Danny, Rick, Allen, Johnny One, Francis, Johnny Two, Anthony, Andrew Peabody...Exclude George Lucas. That practically never happened, given her mental state at the time.
Is that what happened? A ton of misfits came along and...
Or is she simply your everyday, plain vanilla, beautiful, highly educated, working young woman who does not need a man to buy her a drink, or even a dinner?
And who prefers her Magic Wand to so-called Mr Real Thing?
She's never met a guy who could fuck straight, who knew how to do it without fucking up. Not even Rick...or Danny. And Danny was supposed to know.
And it isn't much fun knowing somebody doesn't know, and all that's going to happen is that she will get sore and a headache.
Maybe she will fuck herself again tonight, after all. And not even try.
Thursday
Friday
Advice from Cosmo
They took a taxi back to the Sheraton where they dined, later, in the main dining room, with its colonial-style chairs, and candle lit tables, and he did not try and fuck her that night, nor did she make him do it.
Far from it. She was not even ready to try and make him do it.
She was still thinking how to play it, not how to have him do it.
She wanted to hold off, save it for much, much later. Well, okay, much later.
She was still thinking, first...pelvic crushing.
First, let them pelvic crush in safe circumstances, like, maybe the elevator.
Cosmo said this was a good idea, only she had to get herself ready to get away fast when the doors opened. And then leave him safely inside. Don't, don't--said Cosmo--have him walk with you to your room.
Far from it. She was not even ready to try and make him do it.
She was still thinking how to play it, not how to have him do it.
She wanted to hold off, save it for much, much later. Well, okay, much later.
She was still thinking, first...pelvic crushing.
First, let them pelvic crush in safe circumstances, like, maybe the elevator.
Cosmo said this was a good idea, only she had to get herself ready to get away fast when the doors opened. And then leave him safely inside. Don't, don't--said Cosmo--have him walk with you to your room.
The unwinnable Sex War
Something went on that night, on into the next morning, between two sweaty bodies, his and hers, over a couch, in a bed, on the carpet, against the kitchen wall, back on the bed again.
That something was even going on he only perceived dimly at the time.
At last, about four in the morning, she finally seized up, gasped a fourth time, quit the field. His unbroken lance rested, fully tested, honorably withdrawn. His woman satiated, finally.
And he did not know then how a battle of some kind had gone on. How he had won a battle, once, in an unwinnable war. That is how much he knew. How little. Only years later would he understand.
He had been such a dope.
That something was even going on he only perceived dimly at the time.
At last, about four in the morning, she finally seized up, gasped a fourth time, quit the field. His unbroken lance rested, fully tested, honorably withdrawn. His woman satiated, finally.
And he did not know then how a battle of some kind had gone on. How he had won a battle, once, in an unwinnable war. That is how much he knew. How little. Only years later would he understand.
He had been such a dope.
Thursday
Thinking about naked cartwheels
Thinking about naked cartwheels... Nothing she would not have done in the beginning. Naked cartwheels too.
In his considered opinion, consider this: What a strange fact of the Sexual Life it is how enthusiastic a woman starts in the beginning.
Nothing is too much, in the beginning. In the beginning is pure sex; sex is pure and creative. But with a little time, and how little is that time—and with illusions of commitment or something—who knows, he doesn't, this is a mystery—how soon do laziness, apathy and routine set in?
How quickly do girls come to bed under a screen of hormone and vitamin creams? To make them sexy out of bed—tomorrow!
Is it any wonder that nothing lasts?
In his considered opinion, consider this: What a strange fact of the Sexual Life it is how enthusiastic a woman starts in the beginning.
Nothing is too much, in the beginning. In the beginning is pure sex; sex is pure and creative. But with a little time, and how little is that time—and with illusions of commitment or something—who knows, he doesn't, this is a mystery—how soon do laziness, apathy and routine set in?
How quickly do girls come to bed under a screen of hormone and vitamin creams? To make them sexy out of bed—tomorrow!
Is it any wonder that nothing lasts?
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