Is it because i fuck your friends
She is nothing if not direct. “Let me ask you a question. You barely talk to me, haven’t asked me out and i’m throwing myself at you. Is it because i fuck your friends?”
Sinners and Saints that may have been the best conversation starter since a favorite slut in college used my own line of “Are you going to fuck me or what?” on me.
Judge’s ruling….ding, ding, ding, we have a new winner! Queue the streamers and confetti. Strike up the band!
Yet I got the impression that my answer didn’t really matter to her one way or the other. In business terms she was simply trying to qualify me in or out for one reason of another.
So i answered honestly. “i could care less who you are fucking”. Did she or was she sleeping with two of my friends? Yes. Was it anything exclusive or involved? Nope just people fucking for sport and getting in a little extra cardio. As a matter of clarity both friends endorsed her highly. She had more or less enlisted them in her pursuit of me. An interesting technique playing on the human reaction of wanting to keep up with the proverbial Jones.
She was also chasing (or had already caught) a guy about 30 that i knew of and then an older gent probably late 50’s. In fairness she had a voracious sexual appetite. She let men know it and in a few cases i could see that women clearly loathed her. She gives absolutely no fucks about that what so ever. An unapologetic creature and possible homewrecker with a lot of notches on her bedpost (good for her) and by my estimation a fair wake of destruction behind her.
In that sense she was fascinating to watch. I wasn’t sure where to go next but in my own way was curious about her, and her interest in me. So yes in fact i knew (some of) who she sleeps with, And plainly stated it was not a factor in much of anything.
She waited. I remained silent. Unlike many Americans i do not feel the need to fill uncomfortable silences in conversations. Granted in my case it is experience and not culture that has created that comfort. The first to speak loses the advantage.
“So you’re not interested in me?” she asked and with a smile I quickly replied “i never said that.”
Getting slightly coy. “So what do you like?” she asked. It was an opening but not my first rodeo. Sorry miss not falling into that trap.
“Coffee. I worship it like a god” I said with an almost childlike wonder and the Pope’s reverence in a way that surprised even me.
Now worth noting. I am not trying to be a dick. To fuck with her or to blow her off. In fact until a few sentences ago i wasn’t sure what her intentions in regard to me were. She played a direct hand and most men probably swoon and walk into her web. And she is pretty fucking hot so who can blame them.
However dear readers by now you know i maybe a whore but i am not easy. Life is complicated enough and i have some amazing relationships that i can barely maintain as it is. Not that I suspect it a relationship is what she has in mind. Other than the fact that she does in fact fuck a few of my friends for sport and they say she is pretty amazing in bed there is no knowledge of what she is into, wants, etc.
“You like coffee?! Dick!” the frustration slipping back into her voice.
And with that I bid her a pleasant farewell and took my dick and hard core coffee addiction down the street for a lovely dark roast coffee without her. I drank it alone in a slow erotic manner filled with reverence and child like wonder of course.