Arts Orbit

unrealityhouse:

he put his arm around me as we walked away from the shore. he said ‘i probably seem like an exhibitionist but im not really.’ i said ‘yeah.’ he said ‘my shits hanging out’ and gestured proudly toward his penis. i looked down and his penis was hanging out of his jeans. i said ‘oh.’

i parked behind his car and we walked into his apartment. it was a one room apartment painted grey. there were CDs and clothes scattered on a table. there was no kitchen. he had a hot plate unplugged on the floor and a few packs of instant noodles. he said ‘this is my apartment’ and i said ‘its nice.’

i sat down on his couch. he sort of skipped once, then jumped or fell on top of me. he started kissing me in a frantic or confused way. he said ‘do you like my dick.’ i looked at his dick. i said ‘it seems fine.’ he said ‘you love my dick.’ i said ‘okay.’ he touched my breast through my shirt. he said ‘what do you fantasize about, do you want two guys to fuck you at once.’ i said ‘i dont feel interested in that’ and tried to not make eye contact. he was moaning and sort of rubbing his penis on my legs/thighs. he said ‘do you think about me when you masturbate.’ i said ‘i met you yesterday.’

from Chris (A Story About Xanax and Sex), by Mira Gonzalez