MOB's Love Is Like Quicksand And I Need A Rope

I talk to MOB on the way home from work. I tell him I’m going out for a few hours but I do not tell him that I’ll be leaving early to meet DG. I get to the bar and hang with some random friends. It’s almost 10 pm and MOB isn’t there yet. I know I have to leave within the next two hours or whenever DG calls. I call MOB and he says he’s on his way. He does not sound like the jovial man he was the night before. As I’m waiting for MOB, FB arrives. He takes a seat next to me and we talk over a drink. MOB enters and I flash him my best smile. He looks the other way. FB walks away. I wait for MOB to approach. He does not. We keep locking eyes but his face is expressionless. He approaches the lady with the roses again and makes a purchase. I am stupid enough to think that it will be for me. Instead, he walks back over to the door and lurks by himself, taking in everyone at the bar and making occasional eye contact with me. But he doesn’t smile and he doesn’t approach me. I go to the bathroom. When I return he has moved closer. I beckon him over. He does not hug me. “Hi.” I ask him what’s wrong. He says he’s just tired and then he walks away. I don’t know what to think. I turn to look for FB to say goodbye and I see MOB’s “old friend” sitting at the other end of the bar. He’s not talking to her either but part of me wonders if that’s why he’s not talking to me. I see FB and I give him a hug and tell him I’m taking off. He doesn’t believe I would be leaving so early. He wants to know what’s wrong. I try to convince him I’m fine but oddly, he knows me better. I tell him I have to leave and dash out the door. Before I get three feet away he’s behind me, hand on my arm. “Wait.” Although I appreciate FB’s concern, I wanted MOB to follow me. Why didn’t he give a shit what was wrong with me?!

FB instantly knows it has something to do with MOB as much as I deny it. Eventually he drags a few general details out of me. He thinks I can do better and that I shouldn’t let MOB get me down. “Right. Like I can do better by moving on to another mistake with you and your girlfriend at home, right?” Shit. That was low and I’m instantly sorry. I apologize. He pulls me in for a hug and we bust out laughing. We talk for awhile, agreeing that we are both way to fucked up to get into anything with each other, at least for right now. Besides, it’s more fun to be friends and have this lustful fantasy about each other than to actually get into a relationship and ultimately risk fucking that up.

I realize it’s only 11 PM and that it’s going to be one of those nights and if I don’t take control soon. MOB is inside ignoring me, my fake boyfriend and I have just fake broken up and DG texts me that he’ll be there in an hour. FB convinces me to come back inside for just one more drink. I decline. He insists. I follow him inside and order water. MOB is now on the stool where I had been sitting. When FB and I enter he shoots me a look of death. I turn and walk back out. I don’t need this shit from him. I’m sick of riding the bi-polar express that he puts me through.

I get home and DG shows up. I’m tired and fall in to bed wanting to sleep and erase the whole night but DG hasn’t seen me all week and he wants to talk. He yaps and yaps until eventually I am wide-awake. After a couple hours of talking we get to messing around which leads to sex which leads to four…COUNT THEM…four orgasms. Two of which I have on top, two I have on the bottom. Prior to this night I could count on my thumbs the number of times I’ve had an orgasm on the bottom. He just doubled my numbers in three sweet hours. Lust is bliss.