"Hi babe, watcha up to?"
"Nothing much," I said. It was Mandy on the phone, my closest friend.
"Well, I've got a nice bottle of red and a lasagna in the oven, why don't you come for dinner?"
"Yeah, sure, why not," I replied.
Mandy was always fun. What's more, right now I needed some distraction, a girl's night in. It had been two weeks since Rick dumped me, and the pain in my heart had still hardly subsided. I've had plenty of breakups before, like anyone, but this one really hurt. I mean, it wasn't as though I was sure he was the one or anything, although he might have been. Because it was good, what we had, it was really good. Or so I thought.
"It's not you, it's me," I remember him saying when he laid the news on me. I didn't even see it coming, but I should have. But he told me he loved me -- only three day before he dumped me, he had told me that! I sat there and cried pathetically for a while, with damn Rick sitting there trying to comfort me. Eventually I shook him off me. I didn't want him touching me.
"Rick, what is this about? Don't just say 'oh it's not you, it me' -- that's just a cop out and you know it. It's that little slut from your office, isn't it?"
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The bastard. I knew something was going on with that little whore.
"I thought so. So what has that little bitch got that I haven't? Hmm?"
It sounded petulant, but I didn't know what else to say. He just sat there, saying nothing.
"Well?"
I'm not an assertive person but I was trying to be, trying to be strong, but all the while I was dying inside. It was just horrible.
"Oh Rachel, I don't know. It just wasn't working for me."
Another cop out. I just needed to know. I didn't want to go through months of agony trying to figure out why. However painful, I wanted -- needed - to know. I thought he loved me!
"Rick, that's not good enough. Come on, how long have you been fucking her, hmm? Tell me!"
If it sounded like I was in control, in truth I was barely holding back the tears. I was collapsing inside. He looked as if he'd rather be any place else but with me right now. Good.
"Oh, I don't know, it's just that, well... you're not sexual enough."
Not sexual enough. What did that mean?
"Look, I've got to go, I'm gonna be late for work," he said. With that he up and left. I haven't seen or heard from him since.
The horror of sitting there, desolate, the man in my life walking out of the room with nothing much more to say than I was 'not sexual enough', just as casual as that, it was almost too much to bear.
Not sexual enough. Actually, I did know what he meant, or at least I was pretty sure. It was the blow jobs. All he ever wanted to do was cum in my mouth. That was fine for him, but the fact is that I just don't like the taste. I tried to please, I really tried to get used to it, because I loved him. And because I loved him, and he loved me -- or so he said -- I thought he could accept it. I mean, I would never have asked him to do anything he didn't want to, especially something as intimate as that. But looking back I knew that it always grated with him, he always wanted it, and he resented the fact that I didn't. The arsehole.
The sad irony of all this, I mulled over in my brain during the drive over to Mandy's, was that it wasn't as though I didn't enjoy taking him into my mouth. In fact, I loved it, I loved sucking cock, Rick's cock. Just not to its natural conclusion. I love the feeling of a hard cock in my mouth, letting my tongue slide up and down the shaft, feeling the texture, the veins, licking the head, the eye -- yeah, I love that. And I love the feeling of cum on my body -- I loved it when he spurted all over my breasts, rubbing that sticky liquid into my nipples; it's just so unmistakable, the essence of male. And I loved just watching him cum, holding his dick, feeling it's warmth, its hardness, the way it pulsed and throbbed as he unloaded on my body, watching the muscles in his body tense -- oh he has such a great body, so muscular! -- and that masculine grimace on his face as he spurted all over me! Watching it spurt! God how I loved that.
Right now for all I knew that little office slut is probably taking a load of his cum down her throat. Little slut. Oh it hurt so much to even think of that, but try as I might that image kept flashing before my eyes. Damn it. Damn you Rick! I loved you! Didn't that mean anything?
Soon I had arrived at Mandy's house. She met me with an embrace. It was good to see her.
"So, how's it going?" she said.
"Oh, not great, you know, with Rick and everything."
"Yeah, I'm sorry to hear about that. Rick -- what a prick. Rick the Prick, that's what I'll call him now. You deserve better than that prick."
"Thanks babe," I smiled. Yeah, she's right -- Rick the prick.
"I mean, look at you," Mandy said, looking me up and down. "How could any guy drop you -- you're such a honey! Rachel, it won't take you long to find someone better, someone that's worth it, you'll see. Babe, look at you -- if I was a guy, I'd fuck you!"
We both laughed. It was really nice to be among friendly company -- and Mandy is such a great cook! I ate with gusto, which was good because my appetite had gone out the door along with my man. I hadn't been eating well these past few weeks.
"How's it going with Dave?" I said. Dave was her boyfriend. They'd been going out for about eight months now.
"Fantastic! Oh God, that man is such an animal. Mmmm! He just can't get enough of me! But babe, I suppose I shouldn't be talking about that sort of stuff; I don't want to make you feel worse, what with Rick and all."
"No Mandy, it's OK. I mean, I can at least live vicariously through your adventures even though my own life is going down the toilet. So come on -- details -- give me the details!"
And I knew there'd be some saucy adventures: she was certainly out there when it came to sex.
"Well," she said, grinning madly like the cat that ate the cream, "Dave, as I think I've already told you, is into sex outdoors. You know, in 'inappropriate' places, where you might get caught."
"Do tell!" I said. This was fun, a welcome distraction.