Wait, what?That’s…that’s just not right. That’s just too much to unpack right there.
I’m mortified. This man-boy is having sex. With my foot. And he’s calling me Mommy.
“Are you close?” he asks, jamming himself along the webbing between my toes.
“Close to what?” I ask, amazed at his sheer stupidity.Does he think girls can have an orgasm this way?
“Are you close?” he moans out again.
“Oh, oh I’m good. You…you just go ahead.”
A guttural groan rips out of his mouth as he pumps two more times against my foot.
His body collapses on the tiny bed next to mine and he smiles lazily at me. “Give me five minutes and we’ll do it again.”
I may have started to weep.
I seriously consider it a gift from God himself when I hear a woman in the hallway calling his name. I don’t care if it’s a wife or a girlfriend; I just want an excuse to not be here any longer.
“Joooooon-Boy!” the voice calls as the door swings open.
There in the doorway stands an elderly woman holding an empty laundry basket. Her gray hair is tied back in a red kerchief and a ‘kiss the cook’ apron is wrapped around her waist.
“Who is that?” she stares at me through narrow slits. I am suddenly aware of how very naked I am in her presence. “You didn’t have to pay for this one, did you, dear?”
My next post:Time to vacate the premises. His mommy is here! #IThinkTheHorseHeadIsHers.
I find every piece of clothing except of course, for my pants. But I don’t care. It’s a sacrifice I will have to make to get the hell out of here as soon as humanly possible.
Last post of the night is a video of my bare legs running:So if you see a girl running down Main Street with no pants on, you know why.#UPCLOSEOneNightStand
Chapter 6
“Hey!”
Startled, I jolt back, sloshing my steaming coffee over my fingers and slamming my knee up into the bottom of my desk.
“Hello?” I say.
“That one-night stand article is hysterical. None of that was real though, right?” The voice is coming from just over my cubicle wall.
“Um,” is the only sound I can seem to make when I look up and see Nate’s handsome face hovering over the work divider gawking at me.
I have to be cordial and say something back.
I can’t be rude, but I can definitely lie. “Oh yeah, of course it’s not real. I can’t even imagine going through all that horribly humiliating stuff.” I touch a hand to my messy hair, embarrassed. It’s Monday morning and I need another cup of coffee pronto, one the size of my ass, to get me in gear and give me the ability to deal with all the pity-filled looks the people around here are giving me.Theyall know the date was real.
I tug out a fistful of tissues from the communal tissue box Julia and I balance on the top of our workstation divider. Nate grabs a handful too and shoves them at me. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you and make you spill your coffee.” He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers and I know they aren’t for me. Nope, just the tissues are.
I take the tissues and stare at the baby’s breath and assortment of colorful peonies blankly, wishing they were mine.I’m an awful friend, a terrible, no good, rotten one. I’m honest to God having sex with Nate in my head right now on a bed of red peonies, and it’s so explicitly dirty.
We stare at each other in awkward silence.
But in my head, I’m riding his face. My cheeks ignite.
“How was your weekend?” he asks the top of my head. It’s like he can’t look at me because he’s reading my mind; he knows all my filthy, raunchy thoughts.
“Great, my weekend was great,” I lie. After my date from Hell, I ran home and immediately wrote the article. Then I proceeded to hide in my apartment for the rest of the weekend. I haven’t even spoken to Julia. Who was I kidding, she was too busy with her multiple-orgasm issue, she didn’t even have time to call me and ask me about the stupid fictional date that I unfortunately really went on.
