“I Don’t Have Orgasms,” She Said
“It’s my antidepressant.”
“That’s rough,” I said, a bit uncomfortable to still be trying.
“It’s okay, you can finish up.”
And like that the joy that was a random online dating encounter turned into an odd exercise in futility. She did update my knowledge of enhanced boobs. Her’s were fantastic. Pretty much pointed to the sky no matter the angle she was lying. And that I even knew this, and knew how much they cost ($10,000 per boob) makes no sense, as we had met for the first time at a Mexican food restaurant for drinks. It’s when you meet for drinks that things can get interesting. I’d never really done it before, but I was enjoying the conversation, the smoky eye looks she was giving me, and the chemistry that appeared to be heightened.
Maybe she was just playing a game. She wasn’t really into the sex. So, why was I here? She said she was watching Masters of Sex and did I want to stay and watch an episode with her? Maybe that was it. She just wanted someone to be close. I don’t really know much about her, but I knew a lot about her boobs. And, again, I admit, they were lovely.
Now, the odd thing is I pass by her gated community at least 7 or 8 times a week. And the one restaurant we went for dinner the second time I came over. It was a nearby Italian place with *the worst decor* of any restaurant in modern history. The pasta was okay. The conversation was seriously lacking. We didn’t really want to spend time together, we just wanted to… Well, I wanted to and she was okay as long as it didn’t take too long. What was I doing there?
I drive by the gate and try and recall the color of her eyes or any detail beyond the sex and the tv show. It was a good show. I started watching it after the second time I visited. It was obvious to me that we had nothing going for us. So odd, the casual conversation and activities between fk buddies. We did go for a walk down into the creek below her condo complex. You know, like, trying to spend time together. But, why? They were amazing boobs, though.
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