Two men with pony tails head the meeting. A caustic woman and a woman with a wide ass remain silent. They have called a meeting for communal living. They will meet again next week at four. I think about what it would be like for a person like myself to be part of a commune. I think in the opposite direction of communes. I love the togetherness, but I need privacy and I despise chores.
I looked a woman’s way. She saw me. I looked away. I had been looking at face sitting
you tube videos. I’d like for the in her twenties woman to grind my face with her clit vulva and anus. She was actively studying.
My neighbor, an ex army dude, was a jackhammer this morning when he had sex with his quiet wife. I haven’t heard them for while. They are at it again. I hope they won’t repeat it.
I have been viewing and reading articles about seniors shadowed by cruelty. I want to protect all seniors like children. They should be protected like a soon to be extinct species.
I want to live long but not too long for my daughter. My wife and I are killing one another with our divorce.
I want to get Amy to be abusive sexually. The brutality I see in the face sitting videos would be ideal.
Don’t you like a slap Amy said.
You have old lady breath I said.
I love you fucker Amy said.
It was night time raining and cold. We were in Club 21’s lot in Carla’s jeep.
Do you want to make out I said.
Yes she said.
You know when you like someone she said.
I felt nothing.
She has a large tongue. She stuck it inside my mouth and moved it from left to right.
I sucked on it. I gave her my tongue modestly.
Her facial skin was mostly brown yellow and blue. Her teeth were white and small.
She bent over. I thought about pushing and pulling her head. I drew a cloud on the windshield.
Carla is half Italian French and half Phillipino. I like her whenever I think about her diverse heritage.
Two of her athlete students died. She has been teaching at Cleveland high for the past
ten years. I walked by it when I was involved with a small group of tepid Buddhists who I miss and can’t be bothered to revisit.
I’m hungry Carla said. Carla wants to write for television. She gets together with a group that focus specifically on writing for television. She thinks one of her scripts will be accepted. I don’t think much about writing for t.v. or film. I’d like to have a power struggle with a movie studio that hired me to doctor a script. I think we could make the magic happen on the big screen.
I placed my hand on her breast and left it for a few minutes. I didn’t want to startle Carla.
I wanted to see how large her breast was and to feel the size of her belly.
A woman on Hawthorne called me a fucking Mexican, Carla said.
She looked younger and had a larger forehead with her large black glasses removed and her bangs swooped to the side.
I want to see her large breasts I thought. I felt I was in the world with her, I didn’t feel like I was hiding from it the way.
Carla modulated the conversation to adjust to my short comings.
I torment fifty year old Amy because she would never have been interested in me when she was in her thirties or twenties. I wish she would torment me more than she does but she doesn’t love me even though she has said she does. My instinct informed me she was false and not interested in truth from the beginning and my instinct is never wrong.
She is willing to overlook a whole of a lot for happiness.
The face Amy has when she works me over with lust and violence is mindless. It is like the unguent silver and black fish head in the depths.
Amy has learned not to suffer. You are the most unique person I have met Amy said.
Amy’s God is health. She lives for her teenage boy and the book she is writing for him. The boy looks agape like his father in recovery.
I spent a few afternoons with the 12 year old alone. He didn’t say much about himself. He asked questions about eating disorders. He said that he had a really skinny friend he wanted to force feed Guantanamo bay style.
Amy wanted me to think about herself and her teenage boy as one and the same person. I saw a two headed monster. It distressed me that she talked about herself and her boy as a cozy situation. I have my own daughter. She is my priority. I don’t care for a horny middle aged woman and her cozy household. I care about raising my daughter to be an independent woman. I felt like Amy was competing with my relationship with my daughter. In these awkward moments I disliked Amy.
It was a cold January night. Amy knew an alternate route and has us within twenty minutes nearby her workplace. Amy said she was going to call her ex to be a slave, to have him set up her Ikea furniture. She missed his articulate hands and his cock in her mouth. His body never failed her. It was his indifference. He survived her for fifteen years.
Amy made a wrong turn and overpowered me with love. It was as if we disappeared in her lobe peopled with greedy political organizers and mastermind strategists.
If I see you looking for dick on OKCupid I don’t want you, I said.
I don’t care what Amy does with other men. I don’t blame her for wanting to be fucked when I can’t fuck her. It must be very frustrating for her that I can’t get an erection and that I’m with her because I love talking with her. She should have continued fucking the man who was married to his wife. Then we could have talked about it while we watched documentaries in bed.
I love the wrinkles that pull Amy’s face down and her right eye that twitches inanely when we argue.