So the Cyclist rode me like a bicycle...for two hours straight. Without a single break...Seriously.
That concludes the entire story of the Cyclist and I. That's all. It's not surprising really. I knew it would end in sex. It had to. It had been building up to it. I am still however analyzing how we both kept going for two hours straight.
I am putting my money on that it was some sort of act of God. That tension and anticipation had two ways of going. Into something horribly awful or something incredibly amazing. Unfortunately, I am sure I will someday forget it.
Yesterday, after it all happened. I was a little manic. I was going to write this whole entry about it as I often do. But then I thought, "He's really not worth it anymore." Awful right? He's a character, this Cyclist is. He kept me entertained for a couple of weeks with his banter. When it came time for the sex he actually "gave me a choice" to say no. I almost did. Then I thought:
This story needs an ending.
And thus it ended in the way it was meant to end. Like a prophecy...a pathetic one. And though it was two hours long of non-stop debauchery, which is impressive I do admit. And I could gloat, and I shall in just a moment, this whole act couldn't have been more scripted to me.
He knew we would have sex, I knew we would have sex. A couple of weeks ago, I was riding on the train with two close personal friends. In this city my friends and I have slept with a great deal of people. And when I was looking at the Cyclist's Myspace friends, I noticed one of my friends was on his list. It came out that they had had sex earlier that week. We joked about his personality and my friend goes, "Oh I can't wait for you to sleep with him so you can understand..."
In that moment the story was written.
The Cyclist felt it was his doing. He had succeeded in his seduction attempt. He can now add me to this list of people he has slept with (he really keeps one). And though he did accomplish his goal, it really was my choice. Why let it go unknown how it would've been...
My big mistake, reeling you in...
I made one small error though, I gave it my all. I put 110% into this one. I had to, I had something to prove. The entire night I was nervous, we smoked pot and that intensified the nervousness. He uses his ego and intelligence to intimidate, then wonders why people like me are nervous around him. I was very outward with my nervousness...it lowers people's defenses. It doesn't always mean I'm truly terrified of the situation. It means I have my guard up higher, so you let yours down more.
I want to be evil.
The pot complicated it slightly, it makes things more confusing, so I really came across as a wreck to him, probably. That was until the sex happened. Apparently, and now I shall gloat, I was in his words phenomenal, amazing and incredible.
I can say, yes I probably was good, but I can't say I necessarily believe his bullshit.
Boys and girls, here's what you learn when you do your homework.
My friend told me he is a big talker during sex. Now not dirty talk, but his reassuring talk. His sweet nothings. His BULLSHIT. Learning and knowing that just negated everything. It made the "memorable" experience all the more forgettable. And if you're going to do something like that, don't do it all the time. We all have things we do during sex, of course we do, but something like that just seems so artificial.
I'm sorry, I have sex with people who mean it, not people who have a routine. I sort of hope my friend remembers what he said, so we can compare notes.
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