Too Much of a Bad Thing Pārāk daudz Bad Thing

“So how much do you want me to lick you when you're back in town?” My fingers tickle my keyboard, and I giggle as I press SEND . "Tātad, cik daudz jūs vēlaties man laizīt jums, kad esam atpakaļ pilsētā?" Mani pirkstiņi kutināt manu klaviatūru, un es ķiķināšana kā es nospiediet SŪTĪT.

“Almost as much as I want you to fix the dent you made in my truck,” flashes in reply on my MacBook's screen, a message much too instant from my boy, The Boy. "Gandrīz tikpat daudz, cik vēlos, lai jūs noteikt dent veicāt manā truck" mirgo atbilde uz manu MacBook ekrāns, ziņa pārāk instant no manas boy, Boy.

“Triple exciting,” I pound back, so hard the strap on my black sheer cami slips off, floating over lacy boy-cut panties. "Triple aizraujoši," es mārciņa atpakaļ, tik grūti siksnu uz mana melna milzīgais Cami potzari off, peldošās virs mežģīņu boy-cut biksītes.

My home office dress code is business casual. Mana mājas adrese dress code ir biznesa ikdienas.

“You've become desensitized,” I type. "Tu esi kļuvis desensitized," I tipa. Then I make thumbprints over my iPhone and call The Boy, to share a matter of fact: “I'm always selling my sex to you, and now you're numb to it.” Tad es veicu thumbprints manā iPhone un zvanu Boy, dalīties ar informāciju par faktu: "Es esmu vienmēr pārdod manu seksa jums, un tagad jūs sastindzis uz to."

The Boy laughs. Boy smejas. “What do you think happens, fucker, when you've got this beautiful 20-something-year-old with her hands down your pants all the time?” "Ko jūs domājat notiek, stulbenis, ja tev šajā skaistajā 20-something gadus vecs ar viņas novēl jūsu bikses visu laiku?"

“That's it,” I say, my mind softly whirring, purring, solving a business problem. "Tas ir tas," es saku, manuprāt klusi whirring, purring, risinot biznesa problēmu. “It's like you've worked at Playboy and constantly saw naked chicks. "Tā kā jūs esat strādājis Playboy un nepārtraukti redzēju kailu cāļus. A Brazilian wax and crotch-less panties mean nothing to you now. Brazīlijas vasks un kājstarpes mazāku biksītes nenozīmē neko jums tagad. So you're getting sent to a monastery. Tātad jūs saņemat nosūtīts klosteris. If you want sex, you'll just have to touch little boys named Christopher, with a 'C,' and forget the girl named Kristopher, with a 'K.'” Ja jūs vēlaties seksu, jums vienkārši ir touch maz zēnu nosauca Christopher, ar "C" un aizmirst meitene nosauca Kristopher ar "K." "

The Boy laughs, he must not– Boy smejas, viņam ir ne -

“Believe me, I'm going PG on your ass,” I say. "Tici man, es esmu, kas PG jūsu ass," es saku. “I'm scrapping the flapper frocks and hooker heels and showing up in a dirty robe and rollers, and I'm wearing a one-piece in your jacuzzi, I'm–” "Es esmu metāllūžņos iedzirknim frocks un prostitūta papēži un kurā izveidota netīrās drēbes un rullīši, un es esmu valkā viengabala jūsu džakuzi, I'm-"

“Gottatakethiscallcallyoubackbaby.” "Gottatakethiscallcallyoubackbaby".

“Bye.” "Bye".

I hang up, mind made up: I'll only upgrade from “desiring” to “desired” if I switch quick from playing expensive hooker to overpriced housewife, if I forgo knowing sex as a luxe pleasure and play that the deed's a chore. I hang up, prāta veido: Es ņemšu tikai jauninājums no "vēloties" uz "vēlamo", ja es pāreju ātri spēlēt dārga prostitūta ar overpriced mājsaimniece, ja es atteiktos, zinot, dzimuma kā luxe prieku un būt, ka akts ir sīki mājas darbi. The Boy's been drowning in the scent of Chanel No. 5 and thinks that's what air smells like; he's forgotten that more than half of New York City, the most boss of the US, stinks of piss. Boy's been noslīkst aromātu 5 Chanel Nr un uzskata, ka tas, ko gaisa smaržo kā, viņš ir aizmirsis, ka vairāk nekā puse no New York City, visvairāk boss no ASV, stinks of mīzt.

I ponder posing on the patio of The Boy's home in a trench coat that's covering clothing instead of trashy lingerie, my hair less than carefully disheveled. Es apdomāt rada uz terases ar Zēnu mājās uzrakt mētelis, kas ir par apģērbu, nevis slikts apakšveļa, mana matu mazāk, nekā rūpīgi sajaukts. I think about watching him under my eyes over dinner and wondering when he'll reach first for me, and– Es par to domāju skatoties viņam ir acis pār vakariņas un domājām, kad viņš būs sasniegt pirmkārt man, un -

I'm more than a little turned on. Es esmu vairāk nekā mazliet ieslēgts.

Fuck it. Fuck it.

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