You can run out of love, just like you can run out of kisses. They can stop holding meaning or start holding far too much. But just like gum loses flavor so does love. That's why I'm always thinking of something else when she kisses me. It's always about the griping anxiety and now desire to get out of the train.
But it's also mechanic and loses flavor, pleasure becoming strict and wooden.
It's heavily exciting until the condom gets taken off and I'm left on my back on the bed, looking at the said room with the noise of the shower becoming the only noise. It doesn't even reflect anything in my head, only to be panic in a memory minutes later.
He comes back and tells me he's done for the day.
“You didn't make me cum.” I say, terribly turned on and sitting with a ridiculous hard on on the bed. The pause in the air only hints for me to leave. Not even giving me allowance of a few minutes to please myself and leave.
It lasted less than smoking a cigarette and he came twice.
I walk out with him guiding me through the maze of the bought apartments, with him in front.
Laughter still has to settle and I have the smell of condoms and the taste of an upper lip in my mouth.
And she kisses me again, she's grinning and laughing, not aware of the disaster I had done earlier.
Back when the concert is done, she just sits opposite to me and I can't help but stare at her mouth. Because it's all over. I've been with her without touching her at all.
The story was called Siberia just not to be called Siberian Nights frankly xD
I half-dreamt the story, the idea came to me somewhere in the middle of the night when I was half awake when I thought of two story lines like these to compare.
I kept thinking through the days how much I miss the old tension between The Kills and there was some quote said by Jamie that "when you know that you'll never become lovers" something like that, that it was what happened between them two and well, I'm one of those who point and yell liars, but I wanted to expand on that thought, what if they never were together and what kind of place would they be now and how the love and tension just wore itself out.
I whine, I whine a lot. That's where the bad hookup comes from, because it's just something I deeply regret and made me think whether I even want an open relationship anymore, which is silly because the only bad thing was that it was short and the guy didn't make me cum, which is very personal to talk about, but y'know it happened. I whine, I write about such things. I promised to be open and it really made me think of what extent do I even want to hunt for stories because I realized that it's a lot of what I do. I really do hunt for bad relationships and I should really stop that and enjoy a good one.
I hope you enjoyed this really odd short piece and thank you for all your support