KOOL-AID: how do you like your eggs?

Turns out I like mine with a side of fuckery.

Yes, yes. You’re probably all thinking is a bit sluttish of me. But has been a long time since have done fuckery of any sort. Admittedly, has been a long time since have wanted to. Depression and imprisonment tends to take urges away from you.

Perhaps could have had some fuckery while at the base. Did tend to go on in secret. Not so secret, obviously, as I knew of it. But for me, no one there were important enough to risk it. And could not desire any of the men there, anyway. Devoted. Couldn’t deal with the devoted.

So yes. Policeman turns up, eyes with that look men have. Obvious eyes.

And you know what? Is nice being desired. Has been so very long.

Don’t really want to think about how old he is. Cripes, is probably fifty. Would have to be, if his familiarity with Landlord is any gage. It’s a vintage bitterness between those two. A bitterness which has been aged for many a year.

Has nothing to do with me.

Is interesting what happens when you don’t talk. None of that bullshit chit-chat.

Fifteen minutes, I reckon. Fifteen minutes and we were in my bed, me trying desperately to remember how it all worked.

Was glorious to have a man on top of me, I can tell you. A large, hulking man. Broad shouldered. Tall.

He wasn’t tall. Was barely taller than me. And I’m tiny. (Let’s be clear. Am tiny in height. Not size. Just in case anyone thinks am living in la-la land.)

So the policeman was different. A little passive. You know, feathery. All light touches and tenderness. Fuck that.

Well, I did.

The policeman didn’t leave. Was thankful. Afterwards, he made me an omelet. A bit bare, given my waitrose shopping list is sans vegetables.

We ate by the fire, we watched television, we sat out the back steps as I smoked. We went to bed.

Was glorious, because could sleep. Felt protected. Muscular man, Policeman. Would surely defend me against anyone.

And I feel better for it. All of it. The sleep. The sex. Having company for the entire night. Was even worth the awkward morning-after.

When he left, Policeman asked if he could come again. Nodded yes, but if truth be told, am not quite sure whether I do want him to come again. Some times things are nice if they only happen once. Sometimes sequels are shit.

One Comment on “KOOL-AID: how do you like your eggs?

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