Damn. I told myself next time I would do it
on purpose, thinking through what I wanted, who
I wanted, why I wanted him. But noooo
I fell off my fucking bike. Which, when I fell
off it, ceased to fuck, and became my damned bike.
Wrenched my knee and one shoulder. They put this
long cast on my knee.
Went out on a Friday night to the bar, when I
was able again. Hobbling around with crutches.
Renting one too many beers. Not being able to
reach my feet made pants impossible, so I wore
the wraparound denim skirt; a bit short these
days, but hey. One too many beers, right. Can't
sit down. Houston, we have a problem.
The gents' has facilities for this. I bribed
my ex with a beer to guard the door. I hobbled in, lifted my skirt, did my business in their
separate-but-oh-so-unequal facility, without even
making a mess. But even my feminazi ex-lover
couldn't keep one loud drunken dude out. So
she followed him in.
Here I am, ass against the wall, being
stroked by my lover, while the drunk watches.
When I'm at about 95%, she smirks into my face,
tugs my skirt back down, and leaves me there,
wetting myself, needing her, O God, needing
Next time, dammit, Some time, on
my own terms, OK?