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?”

Virgin Blow Job

Never do you imagine the “picture perfect” to happen: lying down with someone (who you went out of your way to see) in a corn field, by a tree, looking up at the stars, because they’re so clear in the Midwest, unlike in my hometown. You’re lying down on a blanket with a handsome guy cuddling  you and as you fool around he says” yeah it’s not like were getting married or anything so this is fine.”

Caillum is a virgin and I’m sure he still is (hence the present tense of this sentence) but I’m also sure he’s back with his girlfriend. He’s religious (church going) and I mean clearly he’s very religious (saving himself) He’s tall and has a red beard.

At the time, Caillum seemed to really like me. He was sweet, caring and said the nicest things about me.This was everything I thought I was looking for in someone, minus a few traits, but I was ok with the differences.

I was visiting my hometown when we started talking. He was living a state over from where I was going to school (but he was from the town where I was going to school) We Skyped when I was across the country and fell asleep via Skype more times than I can count.

When I got back to my school he wanted me to drive over and visit him and on two occasions I almost did. I mean I felt like I could trust this guy because I did know my best friends had known him since they were little kids in school but still…I was driving a long distance and it sounded more comforting to bring someone with me just in case. But I never went. Something in my gut told me not too, plus I didn’t have much cash at the time to be making trips like that and he was working so I wouldn’t even of had that much time to spend with him.

A few months later he told me he was moving about 45 minutes from where I lived. We were both excited. So the night he got into town I drove over to see him. It was 1AM and I almost didn’t go but decided to anyways. When I pulled into town it was extremely foggy and I got lost for 30minutes, plus he had fallen asleep and I almost turned back around until he picked up at the last minute.

I picked him up and we drove out to a corn field. We laid down together and it didn’t feel right. You know that feeling when you try on a pair of shoes and they’re too tight? That was the feeling. He was so handsome and had this wonderful smile and this perfect body, but it didn’t feel right. The kissing was ok, but it wasn’t anything to write home on:

I don’t believe first kisses are amazing, they are always a bit shaky, but we’re talking a few seconds tops and then it moves on. But most of the time you’re not thinking about the shake, you’re thinking about his hands, the heat or the energy coming off his body. But bad kissing you’re thinking about the tongue, why is it so wet and why is my face moist?

I didn’t fit into Caillum’s arms like a missing piece. It was awkward and stiff and he wasn’t soft. He was a virgin but I guess giving someone a blow job doesn’t count (it so fucking does) I’m sorry if there’s big white pearly gates and he shows up there in the afterlife I’m going to slap him and say, “you jerk I sucked your dick, same difference!”

But I went down on him nonetheless and he gave me nothing but bad fingering and awkward touching. Also, we went into dry humping and I was thinking to myself, “ok, I haven’t done this since Freshmen year of high school, what the fuck?! Really? No, I don’t do dry humping…I just have sex at this point.”

Again, for him there was no desire to be soft.  

When he told me “its not like we’re getting married” it wasn’t that I had been dreaming of marrying him or anything close to that. It’s just that when someone makes a statement like that you really feel like a chew toy. I was a girl to enjoy sin with because I was sinful. I was quick pleasure and then one day he would find another girl to call sweet, to call Girlfriend and he would take her inside his house, have her meet his friends and family. I was just something to fuck with until the real deal came along. That’s how I felt and that’s how I had been feeling with the past few guys. I was a good time. Not the girl you want to hold all night long, or call beautiful. I felt like such a piece of meat and I thought about all the looks, all the moans when I took my clothes off, when someone grabbed my hips and flipped me over in position.

I was walking entertainment and I felt so shitty.

I would spend one more night with Caillum, because I was lonely and he Facebooked me out of the blue to join in him the corn field again and pretend it’s romantic and ignore the fact that I’m just a warm body.

I pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind and took my shirt off and pretended to enjoy his arms grasping at me.

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