If you’re a person I follow who posts selfies, I’ve definitely at one point or another fought the urge to reblog them and add my own obnoxious all caps compliments. “SHUT UP YOU’RE HANDSOME” and so on. So. Just keep that in mind if you ever feel down about your appearance, I guess.
God, the look on a clients face when I asked about his old sick cat. He was surprised that I remembered and cared, so touched. “Oh!” he said. And then he told me they had to put her down as that is better than making her suffer a long slow death, his face on the verge of crumbling. “I know it’s weird for a grown man to be sad about a cat, but…”. All you have to do is pay attention and people think you’re kinder, that you share a rare connection. It makes them like you more.
This morning I said a sentence that included the phrase “the erotic potential of armpits”.
The older I get the more fiercely protective I become of women and girls younger than me.
It’s been more than six months since Breaking Bad has ended and I’m still highly suspicious and critical of Skyler White haters.
The big bad wolf
I had my first virgin yesterday- that sounds callous, but yeah. He’s tall and almost comically skinny, younger looking than he is. Although he is fairly young. He kept inching away from me until he leapt off of the bed. Then he moved around the room and I followed suit, laughing and chasing him. I got a hold of him eventually- he let me- and went to kiss his neck. He closed his eyes and froze when my nose bumped his earlobe. As if it was the only point of contact between us. He had taken off his shoes but mine were still on. “It’s okay,” I said. The voice you use for frightened animals and crying kids. He touched my arm quietly. A response, I guess.
At some point he reached for my mouth, inspecting my teeth. His fingertips threatened to slip under my top lip and slide against my gums. “These are nice. You never had braces braces though, did you?”
"That’s right," I managed, his hand still at my jaw.
"I knew it. They’re straight, but not completely uniform. Natural,"
He gestured at my lingerie set when we were in bed. “You look like red hiding hood in that. It’s a nice colour on you,”
"Thanks," I said. "Although in this case, you’re red riding hood. And I’m the big bad wolf".
He got the joke. He smiled to himself. This job is sometimes depressing, often frustrating and even downright dangerous on occasion. But I’ll let you know now: Nothing has filled me with delight as often as this.
It’s amazing how often men treat me like a pet at her annual vet visit. They want to look at my hair, joints, eyes, fingers. Checking for signs of good health? When I stretched he made a comment about how he could hear my bones crack if he listened. Then he put his ear against my scapula and murmured for me to roll my shoulder around. He put his palms flat against my rib cage and spine as I wriggled. I couldn’t see his face, but I imagine he closed his eyes.
I was recently with a regular who likes to wrestle, which just means that I roll around on the floor with him in boy shorts and a sports bra. I had him on his back, straddling him with a palm braced against his shoulder. He’s a short fellow with surprisingly big hands for his height. “Is this okay?” I said. The silence was expected, but it still made me want to check in.
"Yes, that’s good," he replied. He seemed relaxed. He swallowed and I felt his Adams apple roll against the side of my knee. We were both breathing audibly. He made a puerile growling noise, baring his teeth. I snarled back. I don’t think he expected it, because he laughed in a surprised sort of way. I see these four fluids a lot: Sweat, tears, semen and spit.