Human Nature

If anyone asks, I've been here this whole time.

Do I even try to explain the gap, the massive self imposed hiatus?

I say fuck it.

Let's get right to it.

If you are reading this during 2020, with the back of your ears burning from the cheap elastic, then I want you to imagine a world less complex. 

Imagine no lockdowns. 

No songs about social distancing.

Imagine a time before you knew you were actually the one suffering from halitosis and not Deborah from your office. 

Put on some old school Drake songs, before he became another rapper who knocked up a stripper, and pretend the only virus impeding your sex life is the herpes sore you get on your lips from time to time. 

******************************************

Just like that, I was sitting between two strangers watching the Coca Cola bubbles settle in my plastic cup. It can’t be over already, I thought to myself.

“Ms.? Ms., would that be all?”

The nagging voice of the flight attendant woke me from the day dream my whole trip had turned into.
The ten beautiful days in a warm country. Sunrises over balconies and sunsets on the beach. It all condensed together into a single picture in my mind. Perhaps more like a comic page of postcards, highlighting the most memorable moments that keep me busy repeating them in my head.
The 4th of 5th postcard would be where John makes an appearance. A tad later than I would have preferred, but I can conclude with certainty that any time with John is better than none.

We both were part of the only two large groups on the beach that night. The setting, highly reminiscent of high school movies, when two rivaling schools travel out of state to compete in a sporting event. The evening before the big event is always a pivotal point in the plot line, generally set in the woods, or on a beach with some form of fire. It felt oddly similar, and warm, and perhaps that is why I could slip out of my responsible mentality and back to the younger, wilder spirit I once embodied.

“This seat taken?”
I raised my head away from my cocktail and cigarette to attach a face to the deep voice I had just heard.
“Ahh.. um.. yeah, go a head” I finally got my brain to establish a connection with my mouth.
“John, what’s your name?”

As the words reached my ear, my brain could hardly slow down. I lowered my gaze to my thighs seated on this poorly painted picnic table on a beach. Images of my past life started flashing in front of my eyes; the men, the liquor, the laughs, the uncontrollable desire to connect physically. The most beautiful beach. I took a deep breath in, slowly closing my eyes, and as I finally raised my chin back up, my eyes opened wide and it was me again.

I’m back.

“Anna” I answered, giving away only half a smirk

“Are you with these guys?” Phrasing a statement as a question, John gestured at my friends closer to the water. 
“Nah I don’t know who they are” I tried making a joke to see if I could get John’s dimples to appear again.
No dice, hard man to impress. But I like that, at least I used to like it.

The conversation that ensued was a tad cold, and John seemed to be perpetually unsatisfied. I wasn't able to decipher if it was situational, or maybe he was born looking like an old man printed on a 5 dollar bill. Either way, the pheromones he had been producing were making my vagina flutter.

Have you ever had that?

People always talk about love and the amazing feeling of having butterflies in their stomachs. I never felt that. I have no idea what the greatest poets were writing about. Now, vagina butterflies - that’s science - that’s what is real. 

It’s sitting alone on a Friday night in your house reading a novel and wishing you had something inside of you.
It’s the first touch of a man from your office you’ve desired and wanted for a long time.
It’s meeting perfectly muscular John, with the most piercing grey eyes, with dimples, and glistening brown hair, on the most beautiful beach, with a blanket of stars above us, and the buzz of tequila in your veins.
“Are you always this miserable?” It came out of me like an uncontrollable sneeze. Oh god do I say excuse me? I questioned myself.
And before John was even able to react, my friends dropped more drinks on our table.

We spent over an hour or two talking, mainly the two of us, with different people joining and leaving periodically. As time passed and the drinks continued to multiply John appeared to be more relaxed, even letting his dimples take a few turns winking at me.

The night grew darker, and the lanterns decorating the beach grew dimmer, but John’s eyes remained just as piercing. Every time his eyes met mine I could feel that feeling. That 1000 volt spark. I knew that he knew, that I knew, that he wanted me, and that I wanted him. Was that too much? That’s exactly what was happening. Sometimes we embarrassingly learn that we are wrong, but I was about to find out that my 6th sense wasn’t rusty after all.

I suddenly felt John’s arm on my thigh under the table, shifting my white silky dress with his hand. I couldn’t tell what else I was feeling along with his fingers, and then when it was too late to take a guess I felt the cold metal of his vape pen approaching my lips, but not my mouth.
He was moving the vape pen up and down, sliding its tip in-between my folds. Up and down as though his tongue was tasting me for the very first time. Just as I was starting to move my hips to the feeling he had awakened in me, John slowly took his hand back from under my dress. His vape pen, his side kick, silver with a white tip making its first appearance out in the open.
I couldn’t blink, staring at the little fumigator that escaped too early.
Then what I witnessed started a category 5 hurricane inside of me.

John, unphased, and completely engaged in the conversation between him and my friend, moved the vape leisurely towards his lips, wrapping his lips around the tip and finally taking the deepest inhale I had ever seen.

My mouth involuntarily opened to the sight of John's eyes giving away the slightest hint of pleasure. His taste buds registering the delicious enigmatic recipe of the natural female lubricant. Or for the savages in here - my delicious pussy juice.   

John got up as the guys’ conversation came to a pause, but not without grabbing my hand first.

We walked away from the crowd and down closer to the water. 

The lukewarm ocean water had made the sand wet and malleable. John, who was easily half a foot taller than me leaned over and met my lips with his. I opened my mouth to welcome his tongue in as my hands moved magnetically towards his body clenching his navy t-shirt. I felt my dress being lifted as his hands caressed my naked thighs, feeling my curves and nesting right at the dip of my lower back. He pulled me closer as our feet sank deeper in the wet sand. Between the hot air around us, the wet sand engulfing our feet, his lips on me, and the wetness developing between my legs, it felt as if every single inch of my body was moist. My long brown hair wildly blowing against the wind and covering both of our faces increased the passion tenfold. Both of us knowing exactly what the other wanted without prior discussion or long and over rehearsed script of pursuing one another. There was no build up, no coy texts, no dinner dates, no "I don't sleep on first dates", just two adults doing what adults should be doing. I grappled with John's boardshort strings, trying to release his dick into the open. It didn't take long before his cock sprung out like a Jack in a box, it takes me longer to open cereal boxes. I lowered my knees to the ground and started maneuvering him into my mouth. Stretching the bounds of my inner cheeks I took all of him in. I stroked and sucked and licked every bit of him. My mouth moving in and out, perfectly synchronizing with my hand, ensuring that at all times all of his phalic surface area was being rubbed. John lowered himself, grabbing my hair with one hand and leading my face towards his. Kissing, we parted only for a second, me to pull his t-shirt over his head and him to slide the spaghetti straps off my shoulders. He leaned over top of me sandwiching me between the sand and his rock hard body. We continued to kiss, not as hurriedly as we were at first, and then his lips started travelling south. My neck, the clavicle, down to my nipple; flicking and lightly sucking it. His fingers were inspecting the folds that had been violated by his vape pen. I could tell he was barely holding himself back from spreading my legs wide open and diving right into my oasis. God, I love a man who loves to eat pussy. He caressed my abdomen with his hands and when the last bit of his self control evaporated into the salty air, John firmly spread my legs open and discovered Narnia. His tongue circled my clit and I swear the rhythm matched the waves crashing. I felt his finger slide inside of me as he continued to lick me. When I could no longer ignore that I needed to feel more of him inside of me I started to narrow my legs in around his head. He got it. He wanted the same thing. 

There we were. Just like two seals on episode 6 of Planet Earth. The only thing missing was David Attenborough narrating us. "The male homo sapien has secured his lineage by successfully mating with a female homo sapien". Psych, we used a condom. 

John and I climaxed at the same time. Just kidding. I don't fucking remember. I was pretty intoxicated. I did cum though and so did he. So will you. 

I landed in Toronto with two more stamps on my Passport and John's memory stamped in my memory. No social media exchanged, no numbers exchanged, just body fluids. This is all you need sometimes. It's human nature.