Am I Blushing?

I get to work and my cell starts ringing. I don’t know the number and I’m busy so I don’t answer. It blinks that I have a message and my first spare moment I listen. It’s Von:
“Hey sweetie, I’m just calling to say good morning. Thank you again for last night. I can’t wait to see you. Have a great day. Bye, sweetie.”

I talk to Von on the way home. He’s still at work but we make plans to get together later. I watch American Idol with Teach. This is some of the funniest shit I’ve seen in a long time. People making total asses out of themselves always cracks me up. Teach and I debate whether a few of the contestants are “special” or just a little weird. She feels bad for the worst ones. Even the cocky bad ones. I tell her the only reason I feel bad for this people is that they don’t have good enough friends and family to save them this fucking embarrassment and tell them they can’t sing and shouldn’t try in front of millions of viewers. Vagina Jane and my sister would fucking bitch slap me before they’d let me go on a show like that. And you know what? I appreciate that about them. I am not Fantasia and that’s cool. These people on the other hand are just crazy. How does one continue singing when the judges are out right laughing at you? Even Paula Abdul! She can find something nice to say about anyone!

After Idol I head to the bar. I have a drink and play some megatouch until Von gets there. He greets me with a kiss and a hug, right in the middle of the bar. I can’t help but blush. We play some megatouch together. He positions his stool so that I’m between his legs and reaches around me to use his right hand, leaving the left one resting on my knee. In between screens he steals soft, sweet kisses. I catch the bartender eyeing us. Now I know I’m blushing. After losing too many quarters we move over to the darts where he puts up a hellacious fight and nearly beats me at a couple of games. I have created a monster. Despite the other people in the bar he makes no secret of the fact that we’re together. He hugs me, kisses me, and touches me constantly. Although it’s not at all what I’m used to, I love it. I can’t get enough of it. This guy is what I would imagine a crack addiction to be like. I’m a fiend for it. I think about it every second I don’t have it. I’m complete only when it’s pulsating through me. Eventually we go back to my house and have sex for a couple hours. When we finish he holds me in his arms like usual and I find myself fighting back tears. It was that powerful. I am so screwed.