You let her touch you.
It is dark, warm and i am leaving yet another overpriced establishment that would give a vegan nightmares. Meat may be murder but damn it tastes good.
“You let her touch you “ was called out in disbelief as the door shut on the monstrosity of the American luxury sedan catering my over privileged ass around. I hate american cars and would have been thrilled in anything german, or small and Italian. Either cars and / or women.
(Hums the line from a a Kid Rock song “i don’t like small cars, or real big women but somehow i always find myself in them”) which really isn’t true but anyhow.
“I had to! i couldn’t get away. Her arms were like 12 feet long” were literally the words that i spewed. She is tall, blonde, tan, a former hand model (she did model but have no clue what. Clould have been lingerie , could have been snow suits) and had been a high level college athlete. She is by most men’s accounts both beautiful and a genuinely nice person.
However I am not a hugger. Yet there she was with her twenty four foot wingspan spread wide.waiting for a me and no obvious escape route…other than a fire door to the left. And there was no damn fire.
So i hugged her; with visions of Hollywood douche bags and Republican senate candidates dancing in my head. Secretly knowing some fucker was taping it and going to show me “frolicking” with a married mother of 3 at my confirmation hearing some day. Ok there are fsr more interesting pictures of me with women.
Btw it ia confirmed i am a delusional fuck wad with no soul. But odds are your wife (and) or girlfriend dig me. Drifts off into another song “Some guys have all the luck….”
When I do hug people (that are not loved ones, or close personal friends) i have to tell myself. Don’t pat their back you are not consoling them. Don’t hold on toooooong, don’t let go too quick. I suck at it. It really does take thought on my part.
So as her arms wrapped around me panic took hold. How close do i get or let her get? Fuck she’s tall how do I avoid the back of her bra. And her breasts. The answer i hugged her like the awkward 13 year old jock i once was. And in many ways still am.
Oh fuck where do i look? Not in her eyes, god no not in the eyes! Fuck where? …ahhh the cooler with dry aged steak. That must be safe right?
And so i let her touch me, on my rhomboids,and outer lats, just for a second, through a jacket, sweater, dress shirt, and undershirt. V neck with sleeves in case you were dying to know.
And i can’t help but wonder if is was as weird for her as it was for me. Probably not, in fact i hope not. Guess we’ll know next time i see her if she wants to shake instead.
Heck I do like her in a professional relationship kind of way and will even give her a little hand sanitizer next time before we shake if she ’d like.
This is part of “The Last Incantations”