September 26, 2004

Sexual Education


Sex is bohemian. On a lazy Sunday afternoon, I’ve taken a stranger as a lover and he’s in no hurry, nor am I. We undress bit by bit, admiring one another’s hairy bodies. Our casual voices interspersed with gentle kisses, smiles and then leisurely fucking…

Sex is tedious. We’ve been together for four years. He touches my thigh on the sofa. I’m tired from work. I exhale tersely and flip the channel. His hand retreats and we sit in silence, looking straight ahead bathed in the sterile blue light of the TV…

Sex is curiosity. We’ve known each other forever. Why not? You giggled and covered your eyes when I undressed. We awkwardly grew into a surprisingly frenzied passion. It was incredible actually. We finished, yet still we kissed. Eventually we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I don’t know what to say in class tomorrow…

Sex is primal. I left my friends at the bar. I left with him the minute I saw him. Our clothes were a trail across the loft. The sun rose and we were still awake, going into our third time. Four days later I can still smell him on me. I await tonight like a predator anticipates prey...

Sex is deliberate. Part A fits into Part B and part B sits perpendicular to Part C. My erector set assembles the same fucking every time, and it works for us, over and over. Don’t change whores midstream…

Sex is nameless. I close my eyes and try to enjoy. I buckle my sandals and leave without a word. His dachshund barks as I close the door behind me…

Sex is drunk. Sloppy kisses and strangers whispering, he fell on the train and nearly pulled me over. Squeezing his ass, I pushed him up three flights of stairs. We tumble into bed half dressed. Our heads loll and open-mouthed kisses result in unabashed snoring…

Sex is accessory. He showed up with a leather harness, three dildos, cock-rings for us both, flavored lube, handcuffs, poppers, five porn DVD’s and an assortment of textured condoms. I ask him if he needs his luggage checked. He asks me if I have any batteries…

Sex is intimate. Our bodies meet and the world becomes an inky black void beyond the edges of our bed. Aside from the inch separating our bodies, our mouths, nothing else separates us. We keep our cherished, erotic secrets in a safe, hidden box…

Sex is embarrassing. I didn’t know my body could make a noise so loud! All of the sudden “pflblblblblblblbblblblblblb!!!!” My ass emits this bassoon noise and the smell? Squealing and holding our noses we retreat to the living room…

Sex is solace. I don’t love this guy. This guy doesn’t love me. We fuck because we need to be close to someone. We gently acknowledge it in each other’s eyes...

Sex is muted. If I lean on my left hip the mattress squeaks so I rest on my right. You’re beneath me and I’m whispering naughty things in your ear. You moan into your pillow. It would blush were it not already burgundy. The light in the hall flashes under my bedroom door. Oh shit, the roommate is awake…

Sex is regulation. I am determined to orgasm. I have a goal and I will attain it. We’re drenched in sweat and our attentions are lingering, but we can’t give up now. I’ve invested too much already to call it off. I started this and I will get us out of it. I can’t take my eyes off the damned clock next to the bed…

Sex is submission. I serve you. I seek to please you. Whatever your desire I shall obey. As you experience euphoria so do I performing the act. Like a business agreement, the give and take pleases us. I know where I stand, or rather kneel…

Sex is fakery. I bat my blue eyes and compliment. It’s amazing how much ass a smile can get you these days. Over French toast - my treat - I slid him my phone number and squeezed his knee under the table. Later that day the diner’s pay phone rings…

Sex is awesome. We shudder together and fall on top of one another. My legs ache and I’m chuckling out loud. Exhaustion meets bliss. I roll onto my back. You snuggle close into my ribs. You hum along with the radio. My hand trails down my wet stomach. I contently smile at the ceiling…

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