everything is moving so quickly
It's impossible to kill this boss. It's impossible, I swear to Christ. He's got a black helmet and these fucking purple daggers? Who knows. I get to the third stage of the battle every time, and he just does this clapping thing that I can't avoid. How am I supposed to hit him when he's taking up half the screen? I shouldn't have smoked, I can never concentrate when I'm high. Now I'm thinking about smoking and black helmet fucks me again. YOU ARE DEAD. There's got to be a way.
Joanne walks in, she looks tired. Joanne is my roommate and I hate her. Like always, we don't bother exchanging pleasentries. She beelines to the kitchen and starts re-cleaning everything I already cleaned. We're going to have a fight about that, I know. I don't really care. At the end of the day, I've got the money for the rent so she can't say shit. Plus she smokes my weed. Everyone smokes my fucking weed. YOU ARE DEAD. Two hits away, I swear.
Pisses me off that Joanne came back, because I was about to jerk off on her couch. Not to her, although she's snuck in to a few lately. I've been trying to diversify the girls I jerk it to, in hopes that that will allow me to fuck more girls in real life. What? Do I want Easy mode? Fuck you, video game. Fuck you to fucking hell, do I want easy mode. I kind of do, but that'd spoil the trophies, right? That's what it does. Plus I didn't pay 60 dollars for an Easy mode.
I was gonna jerk off to Arlene. She's one of those girls who comes from a small town in a red state who moves to the East coast to fuck musicians she read about on Pitchfork. Her boyfriend's in a band and an asshole. He carries a camera around everywhere. His band is okay. Once, Arlene came over and we got drunk and I held her in my arms for like two minutes. That's what I'm going to jerk off to today.
I pause the game and head into my room, which smells like weed. My boxer-briefs drop and suddenly she's there, begging me to fuck her. Looking me dead in the eyes aching for me, every part of me. She moans a lot, rubs her clit. I rub her clit. And then she's gone. Joanne's already turned the TV on, some MTV shit. I wish girls would stop thinking that MTV is ironic and start realizing it's horrible. That way I wouldn't have to read recaps of story arcs online to drop at parties.
I fall asleep for two hours. This is unemployment. Irv texts me. Irv is one of those guys who gets fucked despite the fact that he's named Irv. Or maybe because he's named Irv. He was a swimmer in high school, his body is solid and taller then mine. Shit, what I should have done is jump over the cavern, that way the purple daggers couldn't touch me. Then X,X,down left L2 for the helmet. That should work, right? Irv tells me there's a party in some church a couple blocks away. Some bands I like are playing, but there are like eight and most of them suck. I tell Irv I'll be there at 10, I get there at 11:15.Everyone fucking looks at me for one second at these things. They know I've got the best weed in the city so they look at me like, "Oh, that weed guy is here." Then they turn away like I'm a ghost, with occasional glances back and forth. You'd think that would help me get laid. Girls sleep with the guys they want to sleep with, and that's the way it is. Women choose their lovers, guys work them.
One of the bands I thought would suck is actually pretty good. Dancey shit with a hard bass line, reminds me of The Gossip except I'd fuck the shit out the bassist. It's me, Irv, his current girlfriend and some other friends, Anne, Will and Matt. I bet she can barely play bass, I bet they let her in the band because the lead singer wanted to fuck her. I feel guilty for a second about being sexist, but then some guy starts approaching me. Always fucking business with these people.
He says he's Norm and friends with Bill, which impresses me. Bill's a mean son of a bitch. He says he's heard and he's wondering and blah blah blah, I tell him to meet me in the bathoom. He's not sure where that is and I'm not either. I tell him I'm gonna go find it and come back with the plans.
I walk through this courtyard where Arlene is wearing a white shirt that says "Handjobs are the new black" written in marker. She's talking to some girl I don't know. I walk past them, trying not to die. I grab someone's half-finished PBR and drink the rest of it. I find a full PBR and sit down to finish it. Turns out I'm sitting next to that girl who works at Green Thumb, this vegan mixed use place a couple blocks from where I live. Teaching kids how to grow shit, then how to be healthy, it's honestly a fantastic place. Great soup. Of course she has tattoos everywhere that make me want to fuck her brains out. I don't have any tattoos, but I bet that's okay because I'm wearing that Arsenal jersey I always get laid in. Girls get wet for anything European, I've figured that out. And Hispanic guys are always stopping me to talk about it, so they think I'm "of the community" or some shit. It makes my arms look good, I think.
We start talking about that new law Texas passed. Now you have to write an essay if you want to get a reprieve from death row. It's bullshit. I've been following every little detail in this thing for weeks- every mental health advocate quote, every political donation given to state senators. I'm a political junkie, I care deeply about things people older then me care about. I spend hours researching statistics and quotes and leave blog comments to no end, so I'm trying to restrain here, trying not to become the overeager pretentious know-it-all. It's cute the little bit she knows, and it makes me feel like a man filling in the gaps for her. I wish that sexist shit about not liking smart girls wasn't true. I do like smart girls! I just want to teach them things. I'm on my third PBR.
It's going well with her. I'm a funny guy if you can believe it, and I'm able to overcome my nerves for a few seconds. There's some silence. I wonder if she knows that I sell weed. Probably not. Should I mention it? I'm still trying to reconcile her inked arms and perfect tits- not big but they fit her body. And she's wearing a top that is asking to be looked down. She says she's going back in, and I start to follow her for a second. Maybe I shouldn't, that's hard to get right? Girls like that, right? Wait, I can't walk back, I've got to find a fucking bathroom for fucking Norm. I jump back from following her, she doesn't seem to notice. Should I make her notice? I start to say bye, stop myself halfway, then just leave. There goes that.
The bathroom has two guys making out in skinny jeans under a cross. I'd win a Pulitzer if I hadn't lost my camera two weeks ago. Whatever, this place will be perfect. I wish I had gotten Neil? Norman? Norman. I wish I'd gotten his number, because now I have to walk past Arlene again. She's self-effacing and nerdy, it's like she's never looked in a mirror and realized how hot she is. I walk by her quickly, but she spots me. She's clearly drunk. She calls me over. She's a Death Star tractor beam. It's a reference she'd get, which is precisely why she'll never sleep with me. That and she has a guitarist boyfriend who's an asshole.
We start talking about the bands tonight. I talk about Zazzle, that Gossip-esque band earlier. Her friend smiles at the reference and laughs when I tell a joke about Zazzle's name. Her name is Sarah. I try to stay away from Jewish girls because they remind me I'm Jewish, but she's cute. She's short and is wearing a flapper style shiny blue dress with a man's blazer. A boyfriend's? Whoever's jacket that is, it can't hide her tits. C cups, easy. It's been so long since I've hooked up with a girl with big tits.
Norman's in the corner of my eye. He starts walking toward me. It's about 1 am, he wants to go home I'm sure. I bet some girl is bugging him about talking to the weed guy. I'm pretty drunk. He's approaching the three of us. I tell Arlene to stay put. I've fucking had it with this guy, I'm going to overcharge him. I hope Arlene is telling Sarah that she's heard I have a big dick. I hope she mentions that I somehow have access to this amazing weed.
I'm trying to pull the rough and tumble drug dealer act on Norm, but I really don't care. I start talking to him about the Green Thumbs girl. We get to the bathroom and I sell him an 1/8 for 80 bucks. It usually costs sixty. I wish the gay guys were still here. He leaves. While I'm waiting the obligatory five minutes in the stall I get two texts. One's from Nicole. We used to date, now we just fuck. She's watching True Blood at her place and is drunk. The second text is from Arlene- they're leaving to go chill at Sarah's place. I don't respond to Nicole and tell Arlene to wait for me.
I go back to hanging out with Irv, which I've barely done all night. We're both plastered at this point. His girlfriend is Asian and currently doing some sort of belly dance while he claps and watches. It's a fun moment. I think about spanking Irv's girlfriend. Her hips are amazing, I want to grab the loops on her jeans and pull her close to me. Irv and I start talking sports. Lakers just won, I'm happy. Arlene texts that she and Sarah are already in a cab, but I'm more then welcome to get there on my own. I want to ask Arlene what she thinks my chances are with Sarah, but that sounds lame. I tell Irv what I'm doing and smile a lot at his girlfriend. She smiles back at me. She likes my jersey, I think.
The cab takes me to Sarah's building. Arlene comes down to let me in. The walls are lined with naked Mario Testino photos, Kim Gordon and Brad Pitt from Legends of the Fall. There are also postcards on the doorway of each room, explaining their "aesthetic significance". Some sonic experiment is playing on a turntable, it sounds like Suicide but calmer, like if they only did things like "Dream Baby Dream". This is the apartment of a girl I should be fucking. There are about ten people, I knew most of them through school. This tall guy I don't know is talking to Sarah, but I'm better dressed and probably smarter then him. I start talking to someone else about some dumb shit waiting for a chance to get an in with her. Finally the guy admits he doesn't know who Tom Waits is. She loves the fact that I call him a drunk carney genius. I change seats to get next to her. I want tall guy to get bored, eventually it works. We're still talking about Mule Variations when he joins the other conversation. I want everyone to leave so I can grab her tits and slide on top of her on this couch. I text Arlene if she thinks I have a chance with her. I hate texting hot girls about this stuff because I always want to hook up with them, but Sarah's pretty cute so I do it anyway.
think i got a chance? Sent 2:17
a. ew. b.go for it. Sent 2:18
Sarah walks into her kitchen and I follow her. We're both really drunk. She's bending over to get vodka from her fridge, I saddle up next to her and ask for some. It's cheap and it's fast and she touches my arm. We start making out. It's great, but I overplay my hand by groping her ass. She backs away, not in anger but she backs away. I've got this hardon and she just heads back into the living room. I wait a couple seconds and follow.
The index card for the kitchen reads
THE KITCHEN
DIEGO LUNA PLEASE FUCK ME NOW
FREE FOOD WILL DESTROY YOUR SOUL
NOTE THE WHITE WALLS, THE VODKA. EVERYONE LETS HAVE FOOD FOREVER
AND SERIOUSLY! IF ITS LABELED, PLEASE DONT EAT
We're all joking around more, telling embarressing stories from the semesters we all did abroad. It'd be great to still be in college, it'd be great to be doing something. Nicole texts me again, but I really don't care. I tell her that I'm going to bed. Someone gets a text from someone that Fatso, this bar nearby that doesn't card, is offering free PBR from 2-3 AM.
Fatso's has a charm- the divey Slayer-y type of charm- that I normally like, although I can't stand it right now. My mind jumps to that line for Singin' in the Rain- "And I cahn't stand it!". I love that movie. Thinking about it makes me happier then I am here. I kind of wish I had stayed home and watched Singin' in the Rain with Nicole. I'm getting a bit tired. This place is packed to the fucking walls- there are at least 50 people here, you can barely move a muscle without running into some plaid. All of a sudden, "Bad Kids" come on the jukebox, and Sarah runs over and grabs me and we start grinding. The song's only about two minutes long, but get really into it. It's a tough song to grind to, more bouncy then anything, but I'm not complaining. I'm on fucking fire tonight, I swear. This type of shit happens once, twice a year at best. I whisper that we should go back to her place.
Finally, I finally get to smoke weed tonight. We're back at her place and I'm packing a dowl. Sarah is wearing a bra and panties, they don't match but they don't have to. The panties are red, I think they're called boyshorts? I don't fucking care. The weed is fantastic. It's so good that we start looking up things on YouTube instead of fucking. "Charlie bit my finger!" No one knows that twice a month I take a four hour train ride to get this shit. It's fucking worth it.
I keep touching her tits, she doesn't seem to mind. I start kissing her neck, I feel her shoulders melt away and she starts to fall into the couch. I go to kiss her, but she nudges my head down. I rip her panties off and start eating her out. It's not something I do passively- I love the sounds she makes. My hands start to roam. I love this part, the touch of a new woman- everything is different, everything is exciting. You don't know what will turn her on, you get to discover these things. I find her nipples. Jackpot. She loses her breath for a second, gains it back with moaning. We're both so high and so drunk that the only thing we can concentrate is warmth- we're not on a couch, we might as well be on a goddamn astral plane. I want to fuck her so badly. Her hips are bucking, my tongue keeps moving. She's so wet that I don't even notice the taste. Her nipples are like little joysticks, rubbing them gets her to move just how I want. Her hands are digging into my scalp, head tossed back. Imgonnacumimgonnacum she moans, and then she possibly says Diego then lets it all out. Her body jumps and jumps and drops, exhausted. She pulls me up and we kiss. She feels how hard I am through my boxer-briefs, she sees how badly I want her.
"That was amazing."
"Thanks. It's just going to get better." I'm allowed some cockiness.
"Actually..."
"What?" A slight tone of apprehension in my voice. She's not really going to
"Well, I'm exhausted. No way I could get fucked again tonight. That was really amazing. But how about this. I can get you off with these" a twirl of the hands "right now, or you can let me get a full night's sleep, and we can do what you really want to do tomorrow morning."
Sounds fair to me. I pick the latter, and we go to her bed. We pass out after five minutes of cuddling.
A cellphone's alarm rings. I wake up next to Sarah, who is grabbing to turn it off. It's fucking early. Heys on both sides. My hands start again on her body, roaming down south. She turns away. She gets up, out of bed and looks at me.
"You should probably get going."
Wait a minute, but what about last night. I'm letting the disappointment show on my face. I'm making a good case, one based on fact and presumed mutual enjoyment. She sits back down on the bed, my hands eager to feel her warmth again. I start kissing her neck, and my fingers move down to her slit, no moving away this time. She pulls a condom out of a drawer and now I'm on top of her. We're both still tired, but my size surprises her I think. She moans and I move up and down, picking up steam. Within five minutes shes begging me to cum. I think that's because she wants me out here, which makes me slow up. I look down at that beautiful face, these tits bouncing up and down, so incredible that I start to kiss them. Arlene pops into my head, her lying next to me. I consciously try to keep from saying her name, drop a few "Sarah"s in there to be on the safe side. Ten minutes after I started pleading with her to get back into bed, I've cum inside her. I lie there for a few minutes, suddenly exhausted all over again. Last night was more fun, but now I feel complete.
The alarm goes off again. It's 9:00 AM. Sarah keeps saying I should leave. I don't want to, I hate myself outside of this room. I suddenly feel very passionately about this. I want to lie in Sarah's room and read her Borges books and wait for her to come home so I can fuck her again and again and watch black and white movies. But she keeps saying I should leave, so I leave. I put on my clothes and toss myself into the harsh wind, ready for nothing. I need a new book.
