movie I remembered it has an icky abusive sexual scenario as the horrid obstacle that the girl with the dragon tattoo must overcome in order to achieve her full power. This put a bit of a damper on the mood for everyone until I suggested we swap out the movie for my pre-release copy of Pitch Perfect that one of the IT twins burned for Annie. Patrick was initially reluctant—as any heterosexual man would be—to watch a movie about an all-female collegiate a capella group, but soon realized that sexy college youth shimmying and cavorting and cracking jokes serves as much better foreplay fodder than a young woman’s rape by her legal guardian. We started “Pitch Perfect” and next thing I knew we were grinding our hips together to an a capella cover of Rihanna’s “Please Don’t Stop the Music.”
I dragged him to my bedroom. After we’d stripped off our clothes, I angled myself crossways to him so I was on my back with my legs over his hips. That way he’d have easy access to my clit as we consummated the act. But he made no moves to finger my pearl. So I finally grabbed his hand and put his finger right on the sweet spot. He rubbed for a minute but then seemed to lose interest. At that point I closed my eyes and started rubbing my clit myself. But his thrusting messed up my timing and I was getting kind of annoyed at that point anyway. I finally gave up and decided to just enjoy the warmth of a cute boy pumping into me in my cozy bed. As soon as he came he rolled over and started snoring like crazy—we are talking full-blown bump and roll here!
I didn’t even have it in me to give myself a “seizure.” But I’ll be proud to tell Annie that I did get up, put on some pajamas, and go to the living room, where I painted two more signs—KEEP YOUR PSEUDO-FEMINISM OUT OF MY YOGA TIGHTS and CORPORATIZATION IS A LOSS FOR THE NATION—before I finally climbed into bed for good and went to sleep.
This morning Patrick did stay for one of my famous vegan bulletproof coffees and joked it would make him unstoppable all day. If only he could have an unstoppable tongue or pointer finger! He did give me a very sweet kiss and also patted Roscoe before heading off to Beer Alley. I went straight back to bed for a self-tickling session that put my mood right. Am I destined to spend life satisfying myself sexually while reading the complete works of Silky Raven on literotica? To distract myself from this morbid thought, perhaps I’ll try to paint one more sign before I head in to the deli.
Industriously,
Roxy
August 15, 2012
Dear Everett,
In theory, I am grateful that six months of the year this town is as hot as the face of the sun because I sometimes think that is the ONLY thing that keeps everyone in the United States of America from moving here. But I must say, in reality, the heat is starting to wear me down. Yesterday I arrived at work dripping sweat, but my damp clothes instantly turned to near ice in the cold blast of the store’s air-conditioning. I spent my entire shift scanning the store to see if Patrick would make his way over from Beer Alley to say hi to me. I admit it cut into my natural productivity. Finally Dirty Steve snuck up behind me and said, “What are you doing, Poxy? If you have time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.” Grrr! Dirty Steve is the worst. I suspect he knows he will one day look back on his time as the coke-snorting manager of the Whole Foods deli as his glory days and the knowledge angers and frightens him. He bested me with that rotten sushi, but don’t think I’ve let it go!
I finally gave up on my resolve to be aloof and went over to Beer Alley on my break. I wove my way through clouds of breeders with whining little children trailing after their shopping carts (Goddess, I’m glad I don’t have kids!), but Patrick wasn’t in Beer Alley. He must have been on his break. In a fit of conviction that he had made his way to the deli to see me at the same time I’d gone to Beer Alley to see him, I raced back over to the deli counter but he