“Abstances makes the heart grow founder and balls bluer. Here’s the thing blue balls are not just a thing with men. How do I know? Because I’ve had them. This is when Tinder comes in handy and I’m wistfully sliding up and down on some man’s Johnny Rocket withing a few hours.” This probably wasn’t the best thing to say as my therapist glared at me like a deer in headlights.
She looked as if she was stunned, confused and rightfully intrigued. I wonder what her sex life is like? Does she follow her own advice or maybe she’s some kinky chic who forces her mate to wear a collar? That’s totally a thing you know right, my collar is growing a nice thin layer of dust on it in my closet right now. If you don’t believe me look it up. Is it appropriate to ask these questions? I mean after all I’m paying her to listen to me, to talk to me, to be the reason I don’t slit my wrist and pretend that everything is ok. On second thought, it’s likely inappropriate.
“When was the last time you had sex?” And that’s not? What The Fuck doc? Ok seriously though, does masturbation count on this?
“Two… days,” I mumble as if embarrassment was creeping into me.
“What was the plan?”
“Two weeks.”
“What happened?”
With a snicker, I adamantly voice “Blondie” as the memories of the romp in the sheets happened.
“Blondie? Who is blondie?”
“He was tall dark and handsome…”
“So he’s not blonde?”
“No, but he had blondies.”
She shook her head in confusion, but I was already back into the succulent moments of licking and devouring his gorgeous food.
“As I was saying he’s tall dark and handsome. And he’s my neighbor. Ok honestly this wasn’t planned, but I had wine and he had sweets and blondies, which are totally my favorites. But I was coming back from the gym when I heard a large crash as the door slammed behind me. I turned around and found this man with bulging arms, perfectly gelled hair and a back of groceries spewed on the floor. Being the neighborly person I am raced down the flight of stairs to help.”
His grin was full of embarrassment as I bent down to pick up the bag of m&m’s and the now busted carton of eggs that laid at the base of the stairs. “Shit!” he proclaimed as I gingerly lifted the oozing carton. “I was going to do some baking?”
“You bake?” I projected with delight. No one has ever baked me anything, if I wanted it, I made it and I don’t have time for that. This interlude lead me to offer my eggs, the ones in the kitchen, in exchange for trying one of his finished pieces. Stealthfully it was my way of getting into his apartment and watching a man bake. A fantasy I truly didn’t know was a fantasy until that exact moment.
I watched his muscles ripple as he beat the eggs and mix the sugar with the flour. I was mesmerized by the task, despite knowing each step myself. We conversed over our apartment, living in the city, work, friends and when the timer went off I realized for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about sex. Or was I, but the blondies were just so much better? We drank wine and watched a movie as they cooled on the counter, somewhere in the middle of the movie I leaned on his shoulder as though it was completely natural for a first date to do this. Where was the hurry? Where was the bing, bang, boom mantra I lived by?
As the movie credit rolled we found our way back to the tantalizing tray of blondies that were now humanly edible temperatures. He sliced me a square and before I knew it he was feeding me. Like actually feeding me a blondie. I let out a laugh, not like one I have ever felt before as I took a bite. The awkwardness of the night was turning into pleasant escape from reality. As he came in for the second bite I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Just a peek, nothing serious. In that moment I guess he had the same thoughts as he leaned into me.
It was soft and sweet, unlike most kisses. It was enjoyable, just like the blondie.
“Naturally at this stage in whatever this is, I would have already fucked you,” I said staring into his dark brown eyes.
“Then why don’t you?”
“I was advised to do something for myself.” And just like that, I let it click and I was all over him like a hyena on a lion cub. He pushed me up against the counter and within minutes those delicious blondies had a sweet beautiful cream topping that I enjoyed. Whether it was served separately or together, I’ll leave that up to your imagination.
“So doc, it’s been two days since I did something for myself. Since I took charge and made myself happy. I don’t feel shameful or embarrassed. Yes, it was sex, but the bottom line, I did it without feeling like I had to run away from it.”
Melissa In Words 