You dear, sweet man. Everyone else on the bus has a look on their face like they've never seen a carpet write in a diary before. I see them all the time. If I were to bite he d have me in the back seat of his shitty little car sweating to the oldies. He s the kind of guy who hears a sigh and thinks it s an orgasm, who will spend no more than 10 minutes on top in total self-gratification.
Guys are funny.
They think that if they enjoyed it, you must have too. I m used to selfish lovers, I ve had plenty in my day. I read D.H. Lawrence and Elizabeth McNeil because I notice my teacher is most impressed with my sexual insight. He looked like an aged pear with his olive drab raincoat stretched and safety-pinned about him. He laid his instrument horizontally across the topmost roll of his gut, on a plane nearly a foot higher than the tops of many of the heads filing by.