Quietly, I knew it was over. Beyond the silence between us we were still as tightly bound as could be, his legs wrapped around mine, my chin tucked into the nook of his clavicle. I could breathe myself in his skin, my sweat, tears and maybe even some blood mixed with his back hair. I wanted to yank it all out of him. He said "Oranges." and moaned a little. It was time to say goodnight.
"Let's order chinese food." I whispered into his ear.
He was a startled to hear my voice. Before, and for a long time after, I never spoke during sex. It wasn't passivity as much as ambivalence: what I give is my presence not my personality. I show up. For the most part that's all men want.
"It's three in the morning babe." he said with a hollow chuckle.
"I'm ravenous." and I licked my lips. He smiled enthusiastically. This was exactly what I didn't mean.
"Let me just freshen up." He disengaged abruptly, then see-sawed his way to the bathroom. I lifted his credit card from the desk and dialed the third number on my phone.
"Golden Moon Take-Aways."
"Two orders of chow-mien and a half a scoop of fries."
"All sauces and tempura roll?"
"Here I was thinking chivalry was dead."
"We'll be there in 20 minutes unless you want us to wait and make things extra crispy."
I glanced at the bathroom. Richard, or maybe Quentin tonight, had put the iHome on while the water from the sink was running.
"Under cook it and be here in 15. I've only had some spicy chorizo and half a dozen tortillas tonight. I'll swallow anything as long as it isn't rancid."
"You got it boss."
"Bring a bottle of red sauce if you have it - it's a long time till dawn."
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and pulled my underwear back on. There is a rule and I stick by it. Red briefs mean I'm looking for love, even if I don't let him go there the first night. Black briefs mean you can stick in anywhere you like as long as you foot the bill. Sometimes I wonder if my stomach is the real enemy to my happiness.
Surveying the room, I guess this one isn't much of reader. His shelves are lined with records - theoretically cool - but if you looked close you could still see some of the plastic wrapped perfectly around the covers.
"Let's order chinese food." I whispered into his ear.
He was a startled to hear my voice. Before, and for a long time after, I never spoke during sex. It wasn't passivity as much as ambivalence: what I give is my presence not my personality. I show up. For the most part that's all men want.
"It's three in the morning babe." he said with a hollow chuckle.
"I'm ravenous." and I licked my lips. He smiled enthusiastically. This was exactly what I didn't mean.
"Let me just freshen up." He disengaged abruptly, then see-sawed his way to the bathroom. I lifted his credit card from the desk and dialed the third number on my phone.
"Golden Moon Take-Aways."
"Two orders of chow-mien and a half a scoop of fries."
"All sauces and tempura roll?"
"Here I was thinking chivalry was dead."
"We'll be there in 20 minutes unless you want us to wait and make things extra crispy."
I glanced at the bathroom. Richard, or maybe Quentin tonight, had put the iHome on while the water from the sink was running.
"Under cook it and be here in 15. I've only had some spicy chorizo and half a dozen tortillas tonight. I'll swallow anything as long as it isn't rancid."
"You got it boss."
"Bring a bottle of red sauce if you have it - it's a long time till dawn."
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and pulled my underwear back on. There is a rule and I stick by it. Red briefs mean I'm looking for love, even if I don't let him go there the first night. Black briefs mean you can stick in anywhere you like as long as you foot the bill. Sometimes I wonder if my stomach is the real enemy to my happiness.
Surveying the room, I guess this one isn't much of reader. His shelves are lined with records - theoretically cool - but if you looked close you could still see some of the plastic wrapped perfectly around the covers.
