Page 28 of Slow to Grow

She continued. AAnyhow, I just wanted to let you know that you could always talk to me about anything, I feel like I can tell you anything and I want you to feel the same.@

  Blah blah blah. Let me guess, she thinks of me like a brother...

  AAnd I have to tell you how attracted I am to you.@

  Blah blah bl....wait, what?

  AUh......@, he mumbled and stared at her dumbfounded. No one had ever said that to him before. Ever. Not even in his fantasies.

  AUh, I think you are pretty@, he stammered, which made her blush.

  AHow does that make you [email protected] asked.

  AWell, uh, I am not looking for anything more than sexual right now, not looking to be in a relationship or anything. Just sex, probably.@

  What did he just say? That wasn=t even in italics if you noticed. That came right out of his mouth to a woman. He just wants sex? Did he just say that? Hold on, let me go back and read that. Yes, he did. Wow.

  AWell, I know you are a lot younger than me, and I am not looking to get married or anything, but I wanted to let you know how I feel@, she said. Lloyd couldn=t see the smirk she had on her face, his pants were bulging too much.

  For the first time in his life, he felt cocky. It was obvious. He felt like he had a swagger, and started up again with the just wanting sex talk, and not wanting a relationship bullshit. It was like he was acting in a teen movie, it was not him. She came over and sat with him by the bed. And they started kissing. She put her hands on his crotch and he jumped. Then reality set in and he started sweating profusely. This was too much for him. He told her he had to work at the radio station early the next day, a lie, and kissed her goodbye. He may have been bullshitting out his ass with his rhetoric, but he was still a scared little boy when it came to sex.

  He was sweaty profusely and simultaneously berating himself as he drove home.

  She would have done it for you, you idiot. You are going crash the car driving with one hand on the gear shift like that.

  He drove an automatic.

  She was really attractive, and she liked him. It was too much for him to contemplate. She was so much older than him, and he was dumbstruck. And blew it just like he had done all through his life.

  What a choker. What more do you want you idiot. Is it her age? Big deal. You could have fucked just now, it=s been four years you idiot, you barely remember that one night stand you had two years ago, you were so drunk on your two beers.

  Shockingly he didn=t sleep at all that night, and was determined not to be such a pussy the next day. He called Becky back and agreed to meet her for dinner. He was prepared, he went to the store and bought condoms for the first time in his life, Magnums oh yeah. Wishful thinking there, big fella. Well, not big fella actually.

  Becky didn=t seem to think much of his early exit from two nights earlier and as he entered her place he saw one of her cats Stanley sitting in the crevice between her chin and neck. It looked like a cat scarf. She noticed the odd look on Lloyd=s face and was slightly embarrassed. She said he has done that for years and she doesn=t even notice anymore.

  She told him she rescued him from a shelter. He had a hole in his chin from a shotgun blast and his tongue hung out through it, making him look like a moron cat, which is of course a redundancy.

  Ok, I may need to turn around and leave and never come back.

  But of course the possibility of sex won out. She could have been wearing cat face makeup, whiskers, and a tutu, and he wouldn=t have left. These opportunities come along, uh, lets see, 2 times in 25 years, uh, once every twelve years. So, he was going to wreck that shit or something.

  Instead he learned a lot about her. She was raised in a small conservative town in Pennsylvania, and she got the hell out of dodge at age 21. She moved to Chicago a few years earlier for a change of pace, and on a whim started up City Kitty. She did well, though she sometimes would do 18 pet sits a day, so she didn=t get much sleep. It didn=t seem like she had had a lot of boyfriends in her life, and she didn=t talk much about it, unlike Virgin McGee who couldn=t keep his trap shut.

  Soon enough they proceeded to kissing again, and the next thing he knew he had the best sex of his life. Becky, not so much.

  So, he was banging the boss. Not a bad gig. They settled into sort of a relationship, dictated mostly by his obsessive-compulsive nature. For some reason he would see her every other day, literally, like clockwork. He didn=t want to feel like he was expected to see her daily, so somehow this was what he came up with. Also, he never spent the night. He knew he was a meshugena with sleeping and knew he wouldn=t be able to sleep at all. He tried it once, and the three of the four cats stepped on his face, and he woke Becky up at three in the morning and said he needed to go home. So that turned into another ritual. They would have sex, he would fall asleep. He would wake up at 3 am, and then drive all the way home to Evanston. And yet she put up with it.

  He took her to the radio station Christmas party and she looked fantastic in a red dress that flattered her generous cleavage. He was proud as a peacock when he caught one of the stereo typically, misognystic hosts trying to sneak a peak down her dress. He also got word that a lot of his coworkers were wondering how he pulled someone that hot, which instead of making him insecure, made him feel even more like he was in the real world, instead of an observer. He was finally causing envy, instead of being the jealous one. It was a Brave New World.

  It also made a major impact on his social life. The amount of time he mentally devoted to the female persuasion from age 15 on was stupendous. 96% of his brain function was focused on all things female. Through high school, college, post grad, the pointless weekend bar excursions, it was exhausting. Sex. Women. Sex. Girlfriend. Masturbate. Lonely. More masturbation. Until he didn=t have to think about it anymore. It was like being released from a dungeon of his own creation.

  He was having sex whenever he wanted. He was plowing along like the sex stud that he always knew could be, oblivious to the, uh, needs of his partner. Becky, frustrated after another drawn out session gently gave Lloyd=s a biology lesson. Things might go more smoothly, if you know, he got anywhere within the vicinity of the clitoris. You would think having an MBA in pornography would have prepped him, but apparently he didn=t pay attention during his 2300+ viewings of Where the Boys Aren=t, Volume 13.

  Then one day something happened that shocked him to the core. They were bowling and as he was watching her he felt an odd feeling come over him. Something he had never felt before. A weird warmth. Comfort. Happiness. She smiled at him and then he realized what it was. It was the L word. And this time it wasn=t lonely, lazy or loser. Love. He was in love It was quite the an epiphany. He had never told anyone he loved them, besides his immediate family and his turtle. She came to sit by him and he stared more longingly than usual. She asked him what his deal was.

  AUh, I, I, Love you.@ he said. He knew it was a seminal moment in his life, and recognized the gravity of it. She blushed a little, and said AI Love you, too. I was just waiting for you to say it so you wouldn=t freak out.@ She knew him well. So that was that. He was in love. And he was having sex. It was too much. He was among the living.

 
Lonny Cyrelle's Novels