“You’re beautiful, did you know that?”
And with that, my entire body stiffens, “No. You don’t need to do that.”
Tension in the air becomes palpable.
A wounded grimace and his face turns sour as if I spit bile. “Do what?”
“Be sweet…you’ve already gotten me in bed with you. What’s the point?”
I know I’ve overstepped a boundary, shattered an illusion of how intimacy should go; what girls like; how they wish to be treated. He means no harm, only trying to bring some validity to a very casual encounter; perhaps even a sinner’s last attempt at redemption. He’s a Catholic after all. I could have just kept my mouth shut and been a lady, but like I said- what’s the point?
“Jesus Vee, I’m still inside you and you’re already back to being a bitch again. Just relax okay? I’m trying to be nice here. C’mon just let me kiss you and cuddle you and all that shit”
But I’ve already opened the blinds and started getting dressed, tuning out his begrudging moans of emasculation. Poor thing. He whimpers at me from his pillow, smiling that all-american grin even girls in pre-school melted over. I bet they gave him all their leftover halloween candy. The thought makes me giggle audibly, and he mistakenly takes that as an ‘in’. Jackass.
“Babe, just a kiss?”
I’ve seen Pretty Woman. I know how this ends, how quickly ice melts when slathered with sickly sweet tongue. I’ve seen sirens drown in their own seas for the mouth of a sailor. And maybe my mother let me watch that damn movie a few too many times at a much too early age, but there’s one thing I learned damn well:
“I do everything. But I don’t kiss on the mouth.”
By arbitraryoutlet .