Exes. Not all of them live in Texas. Some have set sail for a corner of your mind, dropped anchor and live on the grey shores of your memory -- occasionally stealing sleep, super-charging heart rates and causing sundry havoc with your finely balanced emotional state.
The story of my ex- is the story of Mimi, who is a trapeze artist of a sexualist, flying from man to man without a net and without societal conventions even invited under the Big Top. True story and true pictures (not her real name). Mimi and I had been divorced for about three years and had not seen each other for at least a year when she showed up at my door needing a place to stay. Perfect gentleman that I pretended to be, I allowed it -- and her long distance phone calls to her boyfriend.
BTW, the guy in her mouth -- not me.
One particular phone call, ended with her professing her love to him in a 'forever and always' kind of way. She had the entire conversation in front of me.
Less than 30 minutes later, we were naked and doing it at her insistence. Love makes a poor prophylactic for other guys' juices, I guess.
Since Mimi had made me her co-conspirator, I guess she thought it was alright, several years later, to share her porno portfolio with me. "You'll get a kick out of these," she said, without bothering to tell me what "these" things were.
Ah, sex. You are so confusing.
1 comment:
What a pithy little love story.
Like it.
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