SOMETHING HUGE HAS HAPPENED.

Sexually speaking, that is.



I HAD SEX WITH ROB AGAIN. On Friday morning. Or Thursday night. It was like 6 in the morning, so make your own decision there.

It was completely and totally spontaneous. He responded to one of my Facebook statuses, and next thing I know, we're texting each other for an hour about diets and my birthday and random stuff. Out of the blue, he suddenly says, "Should I masturbate or sleep? I can't decide if I'm tired or horny."

At that point, I began to shake. My gut felt a little sick, and I knew what was going to happen.

I told him I was going to refrain from saying something inappropriate.

THIS requires a small backstory.

Rob was seeing this girl who we will call...oh, I don't know, Joan.

Joan and I went to high school together. Joan has some serious insecurity issues. She's been in love with Rob for forever, and they have on and off dated. She dated him recently- like, around the time we started to drift apart. She has made it very clear that she didn't like me messing around with him, that she thought I was trying to steal him from her, blah blah. She has hated me for a very long time, despite the fact that her idea of me is completely wrong.

They broke up about two weeks ago.

Back to the story.

At this point, I refrained from saying something inappropriate. He asked me why, and I said that I was going to invite him over for a beer, but he knows how I am, so that would be weird. He then informed that me that he is indeed now single...but it still needs to be kept under wraps. Joan would pitch a fit and probably end their friendship if she found out.

I said okay.

He showed up about 15 minutes later, very very very drunk. We bullshitted for about 45 minutes, and then finally I got tired of it and just climbed on top of him and starting making out.

It was just as intense as it used to be. I rode him on the couch, had two orgasms (one from him just playing with my nipples- I couldn't believe he remembered!), pulled on his hair, just had a great time all around. I forgot what he felt like inside of me, how big he actually feels and how intense the chemistry between the two of us is. I forgot how I actually make different noises with him, like I MEAN it, and how he tastes of cigarettes and booze and...himself. His taste has always been one of my favorite things about him- it's so distinct, and I love it. I forgot how we wrap our arms around each other, and by doing so, we simply wrap INTO each other. I forgot what his skin tasted like, what his little noises were. I forgot all of it, but even though we haven't hooked up in 6 months- it all came back to me. It was like we never fell out of it.


Then he moved me onto the floor and got on top of me. He started fucking me, and I wrapped my legs around his back. It felt so good, I couldn't even believe it. Sex with Rob is like being in an entirely different dimension. He pushed his thumb towards my mouth, and I accepted it. I sucked on it and loved it like I would never get to see any of this again. He made noises of approval and then asked if I would do that on his cock, if he could finish in my mouth. I responded with a "whatever you want", and he did so.

The second that he finished, he sighed and said, "I forgot how good that was."

We laid on the couch and smoked an after-sex cigarette, just like we always did. And then we started talking. He offered up a little gem that I had ironically told Sean a few weeks ago. He said that we have ALWAYS had the best sex, that there's just something about the two of us that leads to amazing sex, beyond anything normal. I told him that no matter how much we may dislike each other as human beings (to which he disagreed), we will ALWAYS have sexual chemistry like that. We could not talk for a year and then come back to each other and have amazing sex. He said it's rare to have somebody like that.

We then talked about our relationship as friends. I told him that we weren't friends at all. He disagreed. "We're friends," he said, "I'm just a bad friend."

Then we talked about the time that I lived with him. I asked him why he stopped talking to me, why we suddenly lost everything that we had. We didn't speak for weeks at a time, we didn't do anything together, it just suddenly stopped.

His answer shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. "I got scared," he said. "It suddenly seemed like something serious was happening, some sort of commitment, and I did what I do best- I ran away from it."

"There was never anything serious," I told him. "I thought you knew that about me. I always made it clear that all I wanted out of you was a good time, and to hopefully stay friends."

"I know that, but I'm weird, and I panicked anyway," he said.

It was an eye-opening conversation, one that may have only happened because of liquid courage. I'm glad it happened, though, regardless of why.

Then we had a little debate about society and war and what the actual definition of "good" and "bad" is. And then he left. I told him on his way out the door that I hope this would become a regular thing again, and he said it would as long as he was single and Joan didn't find out.



...I just hope that he meant that part.