We’ve known each other for 18 years, more or less, and I can’t tell you his middle name. He scowls. He is cranky more often than not. He disappears for months and doesn’t explain why when he returns.
Not that I require much in the way of explanation.
We don’t talk about our feelings.
He’s said he feels sexually proprietary toward me. I’ve said that is a problem. He knows it is.
We check in on mundane things: Work, health, travel.
Occasionally we’ll talk about sex.
He regularly annoys me.
But then he is a sympathetic and realistic voice when I need to talk about my divorce or my children (usually both, actually).
Late one night I was awake, upset by something my former husband Daniel had done or said. We chatted and, because I was clearly upset he called me. He called Daniel a douchebag and that made me laugh, because I hadn’t heard that word in forever.
And aside from that one conversation a couple years ago when he told me I’d hurt him by sleeping with his roommate in college, we have never discussed anything close to a topic of “us.”
He’s known me over half my life. I like having that connecting thread.
A few days ago he phoned. He’s been working on a new project which is very exciting and he was in a talkative mood.
Me: So I wanted to just say, again, that it really was fun seeing you this summer.
Him: Indeed. What was the most fun?
Me: Besides the coming? I guess the familiarity and comfort I felt. We were cool, and it was nice to not have any performance anxiety.
Him: It felt safe.
Him: Do you do Kegel exercises?
Me: Why do you ask?
I thought about it for a second. I don’t schedule Kegel sessions on my calendar, but I do some serious pussy clenching during sex and masturbation. Hmmm…
Me: Every day.
Him: I was preparing myself for a blown-out pussy.
Me: MINE?! What? From babies?!
Him: It happens.
Me: Not to me, it doesn’t.
Him: Yours was anything but. How do you ever get fisted?
Me: Oh, you know, it stretches. Just takes a little time. But, um, thanks for the compliments; first my ‘little girl nipples’ and now this. I feel a rush of blood to my cheeks. By the way, what did you enjoy the most?
Him: Fucking you. And the blowjob. That was nice.
Him: Why do you like that so much?
Me: I like the effect cocksucking has: Seeing and hearing the way your body responds, knowing it’s because of what I’m doing. It’s hot.
I don’t ask him when he’s coming to town again.
He doesn’t ask me to come to the west coast.
There’s always a hesitation, a holding back, like we know better than to talk about those things. It's much easier to keep it superficial.
I think maybe he reads this blog.
I wonder if he does, in fact.
I’m not sure I want to know, so I don’t bring it up. I probably won’t.
I don’t think he will, either.
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