Good on paper but…

5 in the morning, I have just gotten to sleep maybe 4 hours earlier.

Phone starts buzzing, here comes Mr. Love Me. “Are you up? Can you get on IM, please?  The texts come in a flurry, like snowflakes.

No, you fucker, I am not up. Yawning, I verbalize the thought. He can’t hear me but I feel better.

But I do want some things taken care of, so I have to make a perfunctory effort at wakefulness.

Then the phone rings. It is a buddy, she has to see a guy in a short while before she goes to work and he has erectile problems. No, he can’t just cuddle. He has to try to fuck, although it is often a losing battle. She is tired of him futilely pawing and pumping. However, she needs him, so pawed and partially pumped she will be.

She needs to ask me why he can’t just hold hands. I could only answer that he needs physical touch and that as a proud member of the ever-burgeoning Viagra Nation, he was going to get it. Either she could smile and be kind until he was done, or let him go on to another woman.

Pretty simple as words; not so easy to execute in reality.

When I get done with her, I tell my hopeful lover that I can’t stay coherent for but so long. He went to bed about 10p.m. I wasn’t even close to home at that time.

As much as I fought it, I began to drift. I dreamed we were talking, when I should have been texting.

Oh boy. What a bad girl I am…

My older yet subversive friend is becoming more emotionally attached. Not enough to pee on him, degrade him, unravel his kinky fantasies and bring them to life.

He wants me to love him. He says we should be united in matrimony.

Yeah, he does.

Somehow, he needs to have a deep, committed and loving kinky love affair.

I am not sure if he would feel that way if I did not empty his wallet every time I see him.

Being that he is a gentleman, he may hazily wish that he got more of me, for all that he gives. He may not ever say it, but he thinks it.

What better way to reap an immediate return on his investment, than by making things more permanent?

I tell you, why was I not around for the good old days when a man just wanted a straightforward exchange? I bring one type of good, he brings another, we work out the details and go home when the dealings done.

I am not one to haggle and take all day to get to the point.

I wistfully sigh and look off into the distance when I think of the man who does not need to burst forth in loving song just because I have gotten him off in a way he did not expect.

Maybe this is why some fantasies need to stay hidden and unrealized. They are too hard to make true.

On both sides

Not much right now, the holidays were quiet. About time, normally I do not enjoy them, due to the flurry of endless activity.

My banker and I broke apart. Right after Xmas. He has been grouchy lately, discontent. It is not my job to soothe his every worry. It is not; I am not his wife.

He helps me, but he does not pay every bill and satisfy every whim. I only owe him to be honest, not to martyr myself.

Therefore, we spoke on it, and instead of drifting apart, I voted to cleanly snap it in half.

It’s done.

Afterwards, I called my Dad. He told me that he has not raised me to regret or wonder, but to act decisively.

And that I did.

Now, I just have to replace him.

Done.

I believe in a pair and a spare, you see.