You Let Her Touch

Malflic Reading a book surrounded by candles, whips, liquor and money

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”

About Malflic

Minor Demon, life long hedonist, sadist and general nerd. Women are my weakness and greatest addiction of choice followed by torrid love affair with coffee and caffeine. When not committing sins of the flesh I'm an unrepentant capitalist, avid reader, Star Wars, and B rate comedy movie geek.

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