Monday, July 6, 1998

The Kind of Beach Movies They Didn't Make In The 50s

I know how sand is formed. It is the rubbing of bodies against rock. The incoming waves are only there to clean your skin cells away. You may not want to touch the shiny part of sand. It could be a potential ancestor who got recreationed out of procreation.

BoyWhoseNameICantRemember: You use awfully big words. Weird concepts.
NotYetInsafemode: My libido is unscrupulous
BoyWhoseNameICantRemember: Should I bring Trojans?
NotYetInsafemode: Only if you want to let the Greeks invade
BoyWhoseNameICantRemember: So I'll see you in an hour?

I drove myself out of my mind and on to the road. I was still fairly new to the whole hook-up thing. The days of me saying "Sure, let's fuck" weren't far off, but there was just enough hill on my horizon that I couldn't make them out yet. I was still believing that I was looking for love. That somehow this stranger would be the answer to my every agnostic prayer.

I drove by him twice. It was two AM. It was dark outside. He was wearing a black hoodie. I was about to turn around and go home when I saw his hand wave.

He kissed me when he got in the car, as though we were lovers who hadn't seen each other in a few days.

"Where's your car?" I asked, because I am the king of social grace.

"I didn't want to risk my Aunt hearing me pull out, so I biked here."

"You live with your Aunt?"

"No. I'm just here on vacation for a couple weeks. A little downtime between exams and summer work."

"Oh, where are you from?"

Where he was from was such an important detail that I stored it next to his name. I must have blocked the synapse necessary for its retrieval with something slightly more important to me, like what I had for breakfast on my fifth birthday: Pancakes.

We talked for hours. All I remember is that we spent a great deal of time talking about The Black Cauldron, and how Disney never gave it its due. We talked about everything but what we were there to do. Eventually, I couldn't help but kiss him. I straddled his body because the sand was making my ass itch. He kissed like a closeted college student who met up with another closeted college student over The Internet. No one would make a romance movie about our lovemaking. The tide didn't come in over our bodies. The breeze didn't blow either of our hair in a sultry manner. I sucked his cock because it seemed like the right thing to do. I swallowed because I hadn't yet. He'd been eating a lot of fruit.

His lips were chapped.

I was almost there when the sound of someone approaching approached. He looked up startled. I hit him on the chin. This startled him more.

No one was approaching except daylight. I gave him my number. He said he'd call me the next day. Of course, I never heard from him again. As I pulled away from the beach, my headlights caught his back as he leaned over into the sea to wash his face. I'd like to think my sperm grew into jellyfish.

original post: http://insafemode.livejournal.com/17108.html

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