It’S very late tonight. Being awake as you sober up is the
worst thing. Lying in the dark naked, masturbating intermittently, I am not in
the most focused of moods. I have been in a state of feline-heat for about a
week, and my mind flits from one fantasy to the next, trying to find the
scenario to help the itch be scratched. You know what I’m talking about.
Oddly, as I change my fantasies in my head like changing
channels, adjusting the progression of one for another, something swims into my
idle brain. Not arousing, at least not anymore. A memory of a boy I had sex
with when I was.. what was it, 18 or 19? I genuinely can’t remember. I remember
his name and face. I remember being annoyed after, as he totally cut off contact
after. I wasn’t offended, I figured that he believed some erroneous thing about
girls wanting commitment immediately following sex. I had wanted to keep up
contact, not because I saw the sex as an important step forward, the very idea
was laughable – I had no relationship of any meaning with this boy. I had only
wanted to have sex again with him as I had enjoyed the first time.
Odd. I do not find this memory satisfying in anyway. It does
nothing for my heat. It was a rather unwelcome memory that really only
irritates me. I am wondering at the minute what happened to the boy. By the
morning I’ll probably have forgotten him for another 2 or 3 years.
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