is this something worth working on and developing into a full on short story? if so, i do realize it needs loads and loads of work. or is it just a glorified journal entry that isn't really worth spending more time on since writing isn't really my thing, and i have enough other projects on my plate?
feedback is much much appreciated.
a semi-amusing sex story
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mmenabi
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-untitled-
Perhaps I drank a little too much whiskey last night, but I had an intense but brief wave of nausea this morning while I waited for the boy next to whom I awoke to finish up in the shower. The only thing worse than feeling pukey the morning after a night of drinking whiskey might just be waking up feeling pukey the morning after a night of drinking whiskey with the remote possibility scratching at the back of your head that the nausea might be morning sickness rather than the usual hangover. Or maybe, at this point in my life, a pregnancy would be almost even-stevens with a bad hangover: both would most definitely come of a night of heavy drinking; the difference being that it takes a bit more than a large bottle of water, 4 advil, and scrambled eggs to get rid of a fetus.
I've known the boy in my shower for years. He very often talks about his past as a teenager when he got beat up every day by schoolyard bullies and street thugs. I suppose that's what happens to long-haired goths in rural Sandy Vagina, Utah. He has alluded to this being the reason why his teeth are so terrible now. I've asked to see his teeth on many occassions but he refuses to show me. Its been over three years already, and I've never caught more than a glimpse of his ever elusive teeth. I want to see how badly ones teeth can become when one gets hit in the mouth with a baseball bat on many occassions over many years.
Aside from knowing the boy for many years, I also have been having sex with the boy on and off for most of the time. He's definitely a trouble maker, albeit an adorable trouble-maker, who in fact creates more trouble than he may be worth; but we have an exciting dynamic between us without a trace of the co-dependence, guilt, emotional blackmail, or manipulation upon which my other past relationships have been based. And the fact that we've kept this dynamic over so many years without ever having held a relationship is a strange and twisted relationship in and of itself. In many ways, I feel we know each other better than anyone, yet I never know what the boy is feeling at any given time.
The first time we had sex three years ago, everything was going according to plan, it was that tuck-tab-a-into-slot-b sort of sex you have for the first time with someone. The next thing I know, having switched positions slightly, I was jolted into the realization that we were suddenly, in fact, having anal sex. The change came pretty abrupt to me, but judging from his unfaltering movements, I realized that he had no idea what was going on. We were both on the brink of passing out anyways, due to intense morning desert heat in las vegas and having drank about a half-rack of beer each. So I froze up, and then kind of stopped him, and we fell pretty quickly asleep. Some time, maybe about 10 months later, the same thing happened again, and I didn't feel like pointing it out then, either. So it sort of went unnoticed on his end.
Then, last fall, we were in mixed company sharing odd sex stories and he told a story about having told his ex girlfriend he'd never had anal sex, except once with another ex of his, though he wasn't aware that he'd had anal sex until she pointed it out later. She looked at him funny and told him that they'd had anal sex twice. Having heard that story for the first time amongst a lot of friends of ours, I didn't find it appropriate to tell him that we'd had it twice as well. So I just sort of let it go. I mean, when is it really a good time to tell someone you'd had surprise anal sex with them? There really just isn't a good time for this.
Rewind to about three weeks ago when I and the boy had unprotected sex. Having had unprotected sex with this guy before, I'd always told him he can't come inside me. I don't know why he thought he could now, but he did. I'd intended to go to the health offices the next possible day, but got my period that morning and didn't think much about it after that. Last night, having neglected to tell him beforehand that I'm not on the pill, he went and came inside me again. Yes, i realize that this is a stupid stupid thing to do. I'm not sharing this to be judged. I do know better, I just never act like it. So I told him that coming inside is probably a bad idea, seeing as I'm not on the pill.
"There's that morning after pill."
"Yeah, Plan B, that's pretty much the plan. I don't plan on having your babies."
He was quiet for a moment and then said, "You know, my teeth really aren't that bad, and its not from genetics. Its from getting the shit kicked out of my face every day for years."
It was so besides the point that I had to laugh at him. What a ludicrous thing for someone on the brink of unemployment to say to a full-time student with whom he has a completely messed up history and no relationship. We spent the next ten minutes or so discussing how we'd have beautiful but retarded children and laughing about it, before we both fell asleep.
When we woke up this morning, and we were having morning-after hungover and amused pillow talk, I asked him about the anal sex story and he repeated it, laughing the whole time, and asking me if there was something wrong with him if he doesn't know when he's having anal sex. And I had to say, "well, you've had it with me, too. twice." He couldn't stop laughing about it, and speculated how many other girls he has no idea he'd had anal sex with. I had to rationalize with him that both times we inadvertantly had anal sex were times that we were extraordinarily drunk, much like we were last night. He asked me if we had it last night, and if the Plan B was even necessary. I had to explain that, no, we aren't so lucky that we are saved from potential accidental pregnancy because he is so retarded he doesn't know where he's putting it. This afternoon, I went and got the Plan B. They gave me a pregnancy test, I'm not pregnant from three weeks ago. I won't be from last night. Everything's cool.
I also had an appointment with my therapist. In fact, we left this morning at about the same time, he to go to work, and me to see my therapist. He said to me, "So I guess you're going to go tell your therapist what a motherfucker I am, right?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
He nodded and said, "Alright."
He gave me a kiss and left.
I've known the boy in my shower for years. He very often talks about his past as a teenager when he got beat up every day by schoolyard bullies and street thugs. I suppose that's what happens to long-haired goths in rural Sandy Vagina, Utah. He has alluded to this being the reason why his teeth are so terrible now. I've asked to see his teeth on many occassions but he refuses to show me. Its been over three years already, and I've never caught more than a glimpse of his ever elusive teeth. I want to see how badly ones teeth can become when one gets hit in the mouth with a baseball bat on many occassions over many years.
Aside from knowing the boy for many years, I also have been having sex with the boy on and off for most of the time. He's definitely a trouble maker, albeit an adorable trouble-maker, who in fact creates more trouble than he may be worth; but we have an exciting dynamic between us without a trace of the co-dependence, guilt, emotional blackmail, or manipulation upon which my other past relationships have been based. And the fact that we've kept this dynamic over so many years without ever having held a relationship is a strange and twisted relationship in and of itself. In many ways, I feel we know each other better than anyone, yet I never know what the boy is feeling at any given time.
The first time we had sex three years ago, everything was going according to plan, it was that tuck-tab-a-into-slot-b sort of sex you have for the first time with someone. The next thing I know, having switched positions slightly, I was jolted into the realization that we were suddenly, in fact, having anal sex. The change came pretty abrupt to me, but judging from his unfaltering movements, I realized that he had no idea what was going on. We were both on the brink of passing out anyways, due to intense morning desert heat in las vegas and having drank about a half-rack of beer each. So I froze up, and then kind of stopped him, and we fell pretty quickly asleep. Some time, maybe about 10 months later, the same thing happened again, and I didn't feel like pointing it out then, either. So it sort of went unnoticed on his end.
Then, last fall, we were in mixed company sharing odd sex stories and he told a story about having told his ex girlfriend he'd never had anal sex, except once with another ex of his, though he wasn't aware that he'd had anal sex until she pointed it out later. She looked at him funny and told him that they'd had anal sex twice. Having heard that story for the first time amongst a lot of friends of ours, I didn't find it appropriate to tell him that we'd had it twice as well. So I just sort of let it go. I mean, when is it really a good time to tell someone you'd had surprise anal sex with them? There really just isn't a good time for this.
Rewind to about three weeks ago when I and the boy had unprotected sex. Having had unprotected sex with this guy before, I'd always told him he can't come inside me. I don't know why he thought he could now, but he did. I'd intended to go to the health offices the next possible day, but got my period that morning and didn't think much about it after that. Last night, having neglected to tell him beforehand that I'm not on the pill, he went and came inside me again. Yes, i realize that this is a stupid stupid thing to do. I'm not sharing this to be judged. I do know better, I just never act like it. So I told him that coming inside is probably a bad idea, seeing as I'm not on the pill.
"There's that morning after pill."
"Yeah, Plan B, that's pretty much the plan. I don't plan on having your babies."
He was quiet for a moment and then said, "You know, my teeth really aren't that bad, and its not from genetics. Its from getting the shit kicked out of my face every day for years."
It was so besides the point that I had to laugh at him. What a ludicrous thing for someone on the brink of unemployment to say to a full-time student with whom he has a completely messed up history and no relationship. We spent the next ten minutes or so discussing how we'd have beautiful but retarded children and laughing about it, before we both fell asleep.
When we woke up this morning, and we were having morning-after hungover and amused pillow talk, I asked him about the anal sex story and he repeated it, laughing the whole time, and asking me if there was something wrong with him if he doesn't know when he's having anal sex. And I had to say, "well, you've had it with me, too. twice." He couldn't stop laughing about it, and speculated how many other girls he has no idea he'd had anal sex with. I had to rationalize with him that both times we inadvertantly had anal sex were times that we were extraordinarily drunk, much like we were last night. He asked me if we had it last night, and if the Plan B was even necessary. I had to explain that, no, we aren't so lucky that we are saved from potential accidental pregnancy because he is so retarded he doesn't know where he's putting it. This afternoon, I went and got the Plan B. They gave me a pregnancy test, I'm not pregnant from three weeks ago. I won't be from last night. Everything's cool.
I also had an appointment with my therapist. In fact, we left this morning at about the same time, he to go to work, and me to see my therapist. He said to me, "So I guess you're going to go tell your therapist what a motherfucker I am, right?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
He nodded and said, "Alright."
He gave me a kiss and left.
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mmenabi
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well, supposedly, SUPPOSEDLY, i am doing a complete redesign of my website which will feature a design, illustration, and art portfolio with which i hope to find a badass and fullfilling job in the line of work i wish to pursue whilst attending art school full time earning my bfa. plus, i have a barrage of other personal projects, which includes a friend's wedding invitation, a series of illustrated portraits of friends, a series of paintings of traditional religious iconographic scenes using pop culture celebrities in the roles of the saints and key religious players (which may end up being my senior thesis), and photo series of the asses of friends and the illustrious in an ongoing project titled "i (ass) ny", the (ass) being an upside down red heart, much like the famed i (heart) ny logo everyone has come to know and love. plus i have the fabric and pattern for several articles of clothing i'd like to someday sew for myself. and i like to knit, too, when i have spare time (that's a laugh) and lots of other random projects. i actually have a blank book devoted to writing down my millions of ideas.
the greatest part of all is that i have not lifted a finger to do any of these things, yet i fully intend to do them. so really, what's adding one little short story to my list? its nothing!
you know what else? that blank book of ideas? its still blank. i haven't written out even one idea in that book yet. they're still swimming around in my head. but i do have the book and i sure as hell have a pen. i should start making lists in it right now.
the greatest part of all is that i have not lifted a finger to do any of these things, yet i fully intend to do them. so really, what's adding one little short story to my list? its nothing!
you know what else? that blank book of ideas? its still blank. i haven't written out even one idea in that book yet. they're still swimming around in my head. but i do have the book and i sure as hell have a pen. i should start making lists in it right now.
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Tommy Martyn
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You say that getting rid of a fetus is more difficult than getting rid of a hangover and then go and get rid of it (if it was there) in half the time. It all seems a bit breezy. My experience with pregnancy and abortions has not been like that.
I hate to say this but the lady in this story must have one huge bum hole. Drunk or not Trap 2 doesn't feel like Trap 1. Have you asked any men about this? Maybe I've only known girls with big cunts and tight arse holes.
I understand that this is just the idea for the story and not the finished article.
I loved the bit about the teeth. It struck me as the original idea. You should talk more about that. Just imagine the shame,pain, humiliation etc in that hidden mouth. This man that tells you nothing, tells you everything by keeping his mouth closed. Do a story about his teeth.
I hate to say this but the lady in this story must have one huge bum hole. Drunk or not Trap 2 doesn't feel like Trap 1. Have you asked any men about this? Maybe I've only known girls with big cunts and tight arse holes.
I understand that this is just the idea for the story and not the finished article.
I loved the bit about the teeth. It struck me as the original idea. You should talk more about that. Just imagine the shame,pain, humiliation etc in that hidden mouth. This man that tells you nothing, tells you everything by keeping his mouth closed. Do a story about his teeth.
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Tommy Martyn
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I was acquainted with this chap back in the day (the 1980's) he was hit in the mouth with a pub stool during a bar brawl. Unlike the movies where you pop back up and punch the other guy and slide off home to shag Meg Ryan, it smashed his mouth in. He had to have a series of operations to rebuild his gums so they had a surface to put the dentures on.
On a personal note, a big bloke once punched me hard enough to break my jaw. I had a bracket and four screws put in for a while and lost a tooth. Getting hit in the mush with a baseball bat won't give you bad teeth, it will give you no teeth. I understand that he might be making this up in the story, because it is a way of getting sympathy, but you should make itclear that you know this.
On a personal note, a big bloke once punched me hard enough to break my jaw. I had a bracket and four screws put in for a while and lost a tooth. Getting hit in the mush with a baseball bat won't give you bad teeth, it will give you no teeth. I understand that he might be making this up in the story, because it is a way of getting sympathy, but you should make itclear that you know this.
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mmenabi
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tommy, i think you're missing several points of the story. for one thing, the very reason why plan b was invented is to avoid the pain in the ass of getting an abortion (or having a child). this isn't really supposed to be a public service announcement. sure, having a child will change your life, and having an abortion is a difficult procedure. but maybe you should be made aware that to some girls, getting pregnant isn't much more than an above-average nuisance and having an abortion is an absolutely necessary procedure to get rid of an above-average nuisance. there isn't much to agonize over when you've already decided you are not going to have any children, no matter what.
and i want to know when the abortion AND the pregnancy actually takes place in this story, because last time i checked while writing AND reading, it was all avoided. and yes, it was taken care of breezy manner. because i'd choose breezy over heart-wrenching pain any day of the week. because, really, why agonize over something if you already know exactly how its going to turn out?
its pretty bitchin', also, that you assume that if a guy doesn't know where he's putting it, it has something to do with the lady's parts and not the man's. well, because any sexual anomaly is the girl's fault and not the man's right? i guess you didn't notice that this didn't happen to just the narrator of the story, but to TWO other girls as well. therein lies the humor of the situation. of course trap a doesn't feel like trap b. it definitely doesn't feel the same to the girl, either. how the hell does some guy go around buttfucking girls (yes, girlS, with a capitol S, as in multiple girlS) without even knowing about it? i'll give you a simple solution: skinny cock. hell, maybe that's a good title for the story.
and i won't even dignify the baseball bat thingie with a response. i refuse to have to spell out for you that i'm not that retarded.
yes, as i've pointed out and you agree with, the story needs a lot of work. giving me your personal feelings on the topics presented in the story isn't quite what i'd call workable feedback. i guess the only thing i can take away from your comments is the idea that i need to spell out every detail so that men can understand it. i've posted it to my blog, readable to my girl friends only, and not one of them asked what was wrong with the girl's ass, and asked why the girl wasn't heartbroken over her decision not to have this loser's baby. so maybe, inadvertently, i wrote a girly story. god, i hate that bridget jones bullshit.
and i want to know when the abortion AND the pregnancy actually takes place in this story, because last time i checked while writing AND reading, it was all avoided. and yes, it was taken care of breezy manner. because i'd choose breezy over heart-wrenching pain any day of the week. because, really, why agonize over something if you already know exactly how its going to turn out?
its pretty bitchin', also, that you assume that if a guy doesn't know where he's putting it, it has something to do with the lady's parts and not the man's. well, because any sexual anomaly is the girl's fault and not the man's right? i guess you didn't notice that this didn't happen to just the narrator of the story, but to TWO other girls as well. therein lies the humor of the situation. of course trap a doesn't feel like trap b. it definitely doesn't feel the same to the girl, either. how the hell does some guy go around buttfucking girls (yes, girlS, with a capitol S, as in multiple girlS) without even knowing about it? i'll give you a simple solution: skinny cock. hell, maybe that's a good title for the story.
and i won't even dignify the baseball bat thingie with a response. i refuse to have to spell out for you that i'm not that retarded.
yes, as i've pointed out and you agree with, the story needs a lot of work. giving me your personal feelings on the topics presented in the story isn't quite what i'd call workable feedback. i guess the only thing i can take away from your comments is the idea that i need to spell out every detail so that men can understand it. i've posted it to my blog, readable to my girl friends only, and not one of them asked what was wrong with the girl's ass, and asked why the girl wasn't heartbroken over her decision not to have this loser's baby. so maybe, inadvertently, i wrote a girly story. god, i hate that bridget jones bullshit.
big dick or small weenie, i am pretty sure there is no such thing as unintentional anal sex. anybody can immediately tell the difference in terms of aperture shape, size and lubrication.
i think it is more a matter of trying to slip it in whilst attempting to make it look like an accident. kinda like "oops, i just stuck my cock into your butt". this of course is increadibly sneaky and should under normal circumstances have led to the ostracisation of mr. crumblemouth. that he was not ostracised contributes to the humor of the story. and it is a funny story indeed, which is surprising when you consider how humorless the author reacts to tommy's comments.
i think it is more a matter of trying to slip it in whilst attempting to make it look like an accident. kinda like "oops, i just stuck my cock into your butt". this of course is increadibly sneaky and should under normal circumstances have led to the ostracisation of mr. crumblemouth. that he was not ostracised contributes to the humor of the story. and it is a funny story indeed, which is surprising when you consider how humorless the author reacts to tommy's comments.
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Tommy Martyn
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You know you are in trouble when it is the German telling you to get a sense of humour.
You have two choices here.
Only ever show your work to people who share your values.
Or
show your work to the great unwashed.
If you go for the latter do not be surprised that they see things differently.
Finally, lay off the insults. You don't know me. I wasn't being personal. You asked for thoughts, you got some. That's it. I didn't ask for any of your feelings about me and neither do I want them
You have two choices here.
Only ever show your work to people who share your values.
Or
show your work to the great unwashed.
If you go for the latter do not be surprised that they see things differently.
Finally, lay off the insults. You don't know me. I wasn't being personal. You asked for thoughts, you got some. That's it. I didn't ask for any of your feelings about me and neither do I want them
"Hey-you got your chocolate in my peanut butter!"martino wrote: kinda like "oops, i just stuck my cock into your butt".
"And you got your peanut butter in my chocolate!"
When my parents used to fight, I pretended like nothing was happening and just amused myself.
If I'm making any sense, then I haven't made myself clear.
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mmenabi
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tommy: yes, true. and sorry i if i was abrupt. i don't tend to show my writing very often. in fact, probably not for about ten years or so. writing isn't really something i concentrate on much. writing gets to be pretty personal sometimes, so i ask for feedback about style and writing, and get crap statements about taking abortions lightly, i'll tend to get a bit sensitive. i didn't realize pax acidus was a forum where it was okay to be judgemental towards other people's values, but that's cool. learned my lesson after about five years (and longer) of sporadic posting to these boards. i never did take much to heart the abc after school specials or movies for lifetime network for women about unwanted pregnancies, though i suppose that is shown in my detachment. i'm sure i'll be duly punished in some form or another. or i guess i'm being punished now. thank you sir, may i have another?
as for insults, i didn't lay any insults. i was brash, sure. i asked for critical feedback about the writing, and i sure as fuck didn't ask for personal value judgements. if you're going to give me a load of that bullshit, i'll give you a load of bullshit in return. tit for tat. its a fun game you started and only you can keep it going.
cheers!
as for insults, i didn't lay any insults. i was brash, sure. i asked for critical feedback about the writing, and i sure as fuck didn't ask for personal value judgements. if you're going to give me a load of that bullshit, i'll give you a load of bullshit in return. tit for tat. its a fun game you started and only you can keep it going.
cheers!
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Tommy Martyn
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The song not the singer.
Now as I understand it, this is meant to be a story. I don't know the author. I don't even know the title of the story. I can only respond to the text. I will only know these characters for some eleven (ish) not very long paragraphs. All my judgements are contained in what they tell me in that time.
So, one sentence in, we get, "the only thing worse than feeling pukey......might be morning sickness. What are we to think? This narrator has told us it is a bad feeling. How bad? And why? Is she a lapsed catholic? Is her best friend heartbroken because after ten years of fertility treatments she is childless and she couldn't look her in the eye if she got rid of a kid? We don't know. We just know it is not all that great. The next sentence she backs this up by explaining,"that it takes a bit more that a large bottle of water, 4 advil, and scrambled eggs to get rid of a fetus." Now we have only known this narrator for three sentences. How would you describe her feelings about pregnancy?
Shortcut to ten paragraphs later and we have, "They gave me a pregnancy test, I'm not pregnant from three weeks ago. I won't be from last night. Everythings cool." Does this sound like the woman we met just a short time ago? You tell me? I came to the conclusion that the story was wrapping itself up far too neatly. It still seems all too breezy. (I love that word) Or the narrator has failed to explain the change in her character WITHIN THE STORY or given us nothing to see why she might have changed her mind.
I wasn't writing a position paper on the moral implications of modern contraception.
So, one sentence in, we get, "the only thing worse than feeling pukey......might be morning sickness. What are we to think? This narrator has told us it is a bad feeling. How bad? And why? Is she a lapsed catholic? Is her best friend heartbroken because after ten years of fertility treatments she is childless and she couldn't look her in the eye if she got rid of a kid? We don't know. We just know it is not all that great. The next sentence she backs this up by explaining,"that it takes a bit more that a large bottle of water, 4 advil, and scrambled eggs to get rid of a fetus." Now we have only known this narrator for three sentences. How would you describe her feelings about pregnancy?
Shortcut to ten paragraphs later and we have, "They gave me a pregnancy test, I'm not pregnant from three weeks ago. I won't be from last night. Everythings cool." Does this sound like the woman we met just a short time ago? You tell me? I came to the conclusion that the story was wrapping itself up far too neatly. It still seems all too breezy. (I love that word) Or the narrator has failed to explain the change in her character WITHIN THE STORY or given us nothing to see why she might have changed her mind.
I wasn't writing a position paper on the moral implications of modern contraception.