Virgin BlowJob (Update)

I’ve been in a publishing slump, which I shouldn’t complain about because I normally get at least one acceptance letter a month from a journal. So why am I bitching when I don’t for two months? Because I can and January and February was kind of shitty anyways.

But this Monday I found out one of my poems got accepted into a badass anthology about women’s issue. An Anthology I was really hoping to get into. I mean I had busted my ass with the poem they accepted too. Rewrite, after rewrite and I had even gotten to the point of sending it to my old professor (a week before I found out) and he was like, “I don’t find anything to cut or pinch or snip. It’s funny and partly scandalous and damn good.”

The poem that was accepted is about my old ex/hook-up/whatever you want to label “Virgin BlowJob.” The poem carries images touching on memory, my emotions and the sense of place. But especially the emotions, the idea that “I wasn’t the one.” Because he that said to my face, “It’s not like we’re gonna get married or anything.” This was right before the blowjob I gave him.

This was the image that stuck the most with me from the hook-up. It wasn’t like I was hoping I end up with this guy at all during the hook-up, but we had gotten close, we had stayed up late talking a lot. I didn’t think marriage, but I thought I was more than a blowjob.

He made me realize two things:

  1. Just because you’re a virgin doesn’t mean you’re not a chauvinistic pig.
  2. Men really do think like that don’t they? They really think “well this is just a fuck.”

And you know the worst part is I think I was just a girl to fuck around with because I wasn’t a virgin and he couldn’t be in a real relationship with someone who slept around. (He was religious to a fault).

It’s funny though because last night an old friend was asking about him. Gosh, I hadn’t really thought about him since I posted about him on this blog and it’s been a year and a half since the corn field thing happened and a just about a year since I’ve spoken to him.

So, since it was getting close to 3AM and my mind needed a break from submissions I decided to take a peek at his Facebook profile.

He just recently (like last week) proposed to his girlfriend.

I never really have mentioned this before, but the moment he said to me, “not like we’re gonna get married” his Ex girlfriend popped in his head because I knew and felt that was who he wanted to marry.

I’m not sad or hurt. 

It’s more of just a “huh. Well, look at that.

My poem was pretty much on target, huh?”

The Fuck Buddy


He has a boyfriend now and I’m so happy to see him finally happy with his life. Joshua is one of the few guys I’ve slept with that I still speak to on occasion. We swap poetry or talk about speech and debate.

Joshua was a random hook up that I never saw coming. We were drunk at a bar with friends. Tina my best friend went out to the car to give this guy she had been seeing a blow job and I was sitting at the bar with Josh. “Peter” (aka tree star tattoo dude) was there. Josh and Peter were co-workers at the time and both really just hated each other.

Josh drunkenly looks at me and is like, “let’s piss him off by making out.”

You know those nights when you were dealing with a terrible breakup and even more terrible guy you tried dating afterwards? You’re almost blacked out drunk but not…but almost:

I remember the bar.

(black out)

I remember the walk to the car home.

(black out)

Then I came to having sex with Josh… (no pun intended Ha!) 

I was like, “oh ok…cool. Good job drunk me.”

We had pretty rough sex too (very nice)

We both came, he got up, changed, left and I passed out.

Everything I wanted in a hook-up.

I’m a firm believer that fuck buddies/hook-ups should never spend the night  because then it’s more than a fuck, more than a hook-up. I don’t want to sleep with a fuck buddy and cuddle. I don’t want to talk about my family or cry about my life. I just want to get naked and move on. Kind of like a post office. (Weird image)

Cuddling, smiles and late night talks are for guys I may want more from. (Expect with Mitt. I stayed there because I was drunk and didn’t want to pay from a taxi. But we didn’t touch or cuddle. I just passed out.)

That Other Time

Gosh, I don’t remember. He was hanging out at my house with his friends and mine, we were horny, so we had sex.

A little drunk on wine. Ok, really drunk on wine.

Actually the next morning I needed to be up early and go with my roommate to pick her parents up. She comes into my room to bring me yoghurt and you get my ass up early.

She sets down the yoghurt and then goes, “oh my god there is a condom on your desk!” Then she goes, “oh my god there is another one on the floor and one by the trash can!!” DAMNIT!

Then she’s like, “Ahh well, not like I’m surprised. And then we sat in my room and chatted about our nights and when we needed leave the house for the long drive to the airport.

The last time I had sex (1 year and two months ago)

I was super fucking drunk. I was actually really upset about this guy (Jeremy) we had almost dated but it didn’t work out. I was pretty bummed. I remember crying in the shower and I got out and had this text from Joshua seeing if I wanted to grab drinks. Fuck yeah, I did.

We went to his house afterwards. Mind you Josh lived with three girls from speech and debate, who I knew very well. Three vegas bombs, two very large glasses of cider, I think a shot of tequila and two bottles of dark beer later I blacked out. But came to enough to me scratching the bedroom walls naked, having sex and moaning very loud.

Next thing I know I’m awake, it’s about 7am and I’m in a different bedroom than Josh’s room. I realize I’m in Katie’s room (his roommate) and I’m fucking butt ass naked. She walks in and she’s like “oh hey there!”

Me: “This is the wrong room and I have no clothes.”

Katie: Yeah, I found you in here and asked what you were doing and you said, “I’m sleepin’!” So I’m gonna take a shower and you can go back to Josh’s room.

Thank goodness I knew her and thank goodness she was pulling an all-nighter for an event. But I did have to see her at the event.


My face when I woke up in the wrong bed

Tree Star Tattoo Dude


LittlefootAbouttoEatTreestarThis was a pretty short lived hook-up.


Again I met him through my roommate. He went to college for art and photographer. He went to a pretty nice university for the arts too, but he wasn’t really working on it. Lacked passion in his art. Kind of lazy about it. He was almost 30 and really didn’t have any future plans.

A messy person too.

We spoke a lot online, chatting and we ran into each other at the local bars. He had a beard and was pretty interesting. I wasn’t super physically attracted to him but he was funny and we also seemed to have nice conversations.

He had a few tattoos, one was of someone’s voice rate, he had something else on his leg I think and then finally his other arm he had a tattoo of The Land Before Time, Tree Star. Yep.

Of course, in the middle of the night I drove 35 minutes to his place.

He was a very sloppy kisser. ugh I hate that.

Now I’m a firm believer that kissing is a pre-curser to how sex will be/chemistry. Which brings me to the idea that I don’t think anyone is a bad kisser: I just think bad kissing has to do with chemistry and emotion connection, plus how sex will be between two people.

So basically he was sloppy with me, but I’m sure with other women he may have been a great kisser. Just not for me.

That was basically the story. Just a hook-up. And I left thinking how this wasn’t going to work out. I mean the kissing said it all and I should have stopped there but…you know. Girls gotta eat.

Besides the kissing Peter made me feel like how Jacob made me feel. I felt dirty. A piece of meat. There was no romance, no caring touch or the warm of a smile. It was just pleasure and I was just a breathing toy with flesh.