Katrina had been seeking my advice in trying to decide whether to have sex with her new interest. From what I can tell, he seems normal enough. Because she’s slept with so many other men of obvious lesser worth with far less regard (WTF), I’m not exactly sure why she seeks my advice at all. Well, I neither encouraged nor discouraged her sexcapade.
The night came…She texted–according to her–just moments (WTF) before the get-down went down. She asked me to wish her luck (WTF!!!?). I did.
The next day she excitedly told me the story of how well he kissed, and even though he is of slight build (uh hem…skinny as a rail), she found him very sexy. She told me that they were naked, and she was kissing down his rib cage on her way to “bless him” (as she said) with her world-class, tried and true fellatio. As she approached is pubic hair-line, he quickly stopped her–holding her by her shoulders. He scooted to the edge of the bed, turned over, spread his butt cheeks, and mumbled, “Okay, baby.” (WTF!?)
She said she thought that “move” was a bit odd (WTF!), and as she continued on, skipping past what must have happened (WTF), I was gripped by the apparent need to reevaluate who I call “friend.” Did she think that I hadn’t heard her? Was she hoping I hadn’t? She just kept on talking–no pause for the dramatic “move” her new sex partner pulled. As her voice faded into the background, the life of our friendship flashed in my mind, and there were highlights of times I sipped a drink after her. God help me.
…there’s gotta be some rules