If I had one, I would have screamed my goddamn safe word then, because of the sheer pain. “Gah!” I yelped.
“Oh, yeah, it feels real good, right?”
What the hell parallel universe did he get sucked into?
And then he was done.
Done.
Finished.
Three pumps, an ‘ahh,’ and he was climbing off me.
Holy crap. Four months. It’d been four months since I had sex.Four sexless months. And he gave me, literally, two seconds to have a chance at an orgasm.
My girl parts were very angry and very neglected. Angry, neglected, and dry.
“Seriously, go screw yourself Bren.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because that’s exactly whatI’mgoing to have to do!”
Bren held the tip of the condom, so none of “The God’s Juice” got out, and with a disgusted face, he tied it in a tidy little knot, buried it in a handful of tissues, and dropped it in the garbage like it was contaminated with the next apocalyptical-zombie-causing virus. Then, he looked up at me with sad, tired eyes. “Look, Sage I’m sorry about how it’s been lately. I’m under a lot of pressure. Come here.”
I let him wrap his arms around me. Let him touch his lips to mine.
My eyes closed tight, and his cool minty lips moved from my mouth and pressed against my forehead. That’s when I realized he hadn’t even bothered to spit out his tobacco; he never even planned on kissing me. I felt pushed aside, like an autumn leaf blowing against a hard, unmovable stone.
What happened to Bren?
He looked like he was so successful; wore the perfect clothes, always has the perfect hairstyle, but he was just a shell. I could recognize a shell of a person; they have the same emptiness as me. Bren once had a plan for his life. Maybe the issue he was facing was that his plans weren’t going according to what he wanted. I knew all too well about plans that turned horribly wrong. I knew what being shattered and torn down felt like.
Right about now you think I’m a pushover, don’t you? You think maybe I’m staying with Mr. Moneybags because of his bank account, or that I’m not confident enough, or whatever the hell it is you’re thinking. Don’t judge me, because really? Come on, your love lives are so perfect? Are there always flowers and candles lit when you come home from a long day at work? Was there always lust and amazing multiple orgasms and a gorgeous man who would rub your back for hours? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Brenwas every guy.
This wasn’t a Disney fairytale. Bren was no Prince Charming, and I never pretended he would be. I may have loved to read my romance and smut novels, but I was not blinded by the ‘fiction’ part of it all. I knew the difference between what was real and what came from a hopeless romantic’s imagination.
Reality was the toilet seat would always be up. Dirty socks would be strewn carelessly about on the floor, while toothpaste and shaving cream were caked all over the sink.
And the saddest reality of all
Was there would never be any more
Fluttery butterflies in your belly
Or in your heart.
Police Report
Investigation: Criminal Sale of Controlled Substance
Date: September 21, 2014
Time: 1634 Hrs.
Location: Bleecker Street and Barrow Street
John Doe “Doc” [CASE SUBJECT] - Male/Caucasian. Approximately 25-30 years old. 5’11 -6’2”, 200 LBS. Wearing: White dress shirt and navy pants.
