A horrifying discovery
So, Kurt calls yesterday afternoon, and asks if I'd like to see a movie that night. We end up going to Lost In Translation, which is very good. Sublime. Bill Murray should get an Oscar nomination, at the very least, for it. It's a great film, but one with very funny parts that even those like Kurt who are somewhat afraid of Great Films can enjoy.

Afterwards, as we're leaving the theater, Kurt says "so... do you want to go back to my place, maybe watch the rest of the game again?" And I say "yeah, sure", remembering just how much of the game we watched last time. But the movie was about making connections when you're a stranger in a strange land, and not being sure who you should be. I don't feel like going home alone, to an apartment that, though I've been living there for two months, still has the sort of transitory feel of the hotel rooms in the movie.

Maybe we wouldn't have had sex again if the end of the game hadn't been so great - the Sox were down 5-2 in the bottom of the ninth, but tied it up on a home run from Todd Walker, of all people, and then would later win in extra innings on a Monster shot from David Ortiz. It got us excited, though, and he grabbed me for a celebratory kiss. I was wearing flats, so he had to put his hand on my bottom to sort of push me in and up, to meet his lips, which wound up with me with a hand on my butt and my groin in the same general area as his groin, and I could feel him getting hard.

I said something clever, like "oop!". He blushed, and I found that funny. He motioned his head toward his bedroom door. This time I'm sober, but I figure, what the hell, I've already done it once, and I always hated it when a woman got me erect and bailed. Besides, I didn't exactly suffer last week.

He leads me to his bedroom and, responsible guy that he is, heads straight to the condom drawer. I'm getting my shoes off and pulling my dress over my head, and when I look up he's getting his clothes off, too, and I make a horrifying discovery.

My best friend has a penis.

Now, this isn't exactly new news - after all, feeling it through our clothes had started this, and last Thursday it had actually been used. But I'd had my eyes shut a lot and we'd been so close together that my boobs kind of blocked the view. I'd seen it before, of course (let us talk no more of the trough at the Beech Ridge Motor Speedway), but this was different. This was the medium shot of thing erect and purple, pointing slightly to Kurt's right, and about to be stuck inside my body.

Now, I don't know if it's just me, but my mental image of a man seldom included a penis. Not before the switch, or after. You just don't see enough of them for it to stick in your mind that other men have them. But now, I'm looking at Kurt's, and honest to god, it looks like some sort of parasitic alien life form. It's the color, and the gravity-defying posture. As he puts the condom on, I can't help but think, did every woman I ever slept with think I looked this ridiculous?

He intereprets the staring as something else, naturally, and pulls me to the bed. I'm really not much into it at this point - I make some sincere noise, but don't initiate anything. He doesn't seem to notice, and after he's come, I smile and say it was nice (which it was, don't get me wrong), and that I have to be at work early.

On the train ride home, I'm hyper-aware of every man in the car having a dick. It's a disconcerting thought, really, and I feel somewhat vulnerable. Maybe what Kurt and I had done Thursday hadn't quite been "making love", but we'd both gotten something out of it. This just felt like servicing him, I guess, and it was like drinking something with a lousy aftertaste.

And Kurt hadn't even seemed to notice it wasn't as good for me as it was for him. It wasn't his fault, but it was still kind of a letdown. And I'm wondering, are we going to do this all the time now? It's like, after I finally let him kiss me, it was like he had to kiss me every time he saw me after that. So now, every time we go out, are we going to have to screw?

It's girls' night tonight, but Kurt just sent me an IM asking if I was up for something tomorrow. So now I'm wondering, after yesterday's disappointing outing, should I pull out that "let's just be friends" speech, hope it doesn't lead to sex, or get back on the horse?

-Martin
- posted 4:57 PM - - (archive use only)