Ok, not really. Read on, friends. It’ll make sense in a minute, I promise.
Boundaries are something I’m chewing on. Sometimes I have good ones, like, for example I turned down a possible foursome and a for-sure fucking with Kevin last night — he always complains I’m too athletic of a lover. I don’t have time for that bullshit. Usually, though, I have bad boundaries, for example with The Neighbor.
Last night I asked him to hit balls with me and my softball team and he said yes, but at the last-minute my team backed out. I offered for it to be just me and him, but he opted out. Then I realized that the new girl on my team, a petite girl with a brash, yet ineffectual personality was still in. I asked if she’d still want to practice with just me. She said yes. When I told TN, he said he was, once again, “in.”
Now, I don’t know if it was because there were now three of us (sort of a requisite for a good practice) or if he’s stuck in some parallel universe where hitting on my hot, young teammate is ok. I didn’t bother asking, but instead decided to just sit back and observe.
On the car ride over we discussed her. “Maybe she just needs a good fucking from me,” he wondered out loud. I rolled my eyes and called him a fucking dick.
“Please, TN. I don’t fucking care who you want to fuck, but keep it to yourself!”
“If you don’t care,” he leveled at me coolly, “Then why don’t you want to hear it?”
The classic trap. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. That sparked an odd, prickly exchange for the next hour laced with aggressive sexual innuendo. It saddened me to no end. He was playing some angry game with me and instead of telling him it hurt my feelings and to stop, I stooped to pick up the proverbial ball.
We decided to play catch while we waited for Hailey to roll up on her bike and while the balls flew I told TN that I didn’t like us like this, that I wanted to be nice, that it took too much out of me. “Ok, so say 3 nice things about 4 am girl.”
I went mute.
“Um, ok. She’s not on welfare,” TN cackled as he caught a ball and I racked my brain for something else. “She’s never murdered someone -”
“That we know of!” interjected TN.
“Ok, so that doesn’t count.” We continued to throw the ball as I went through trait after trait. I thought, “She washes her hair – no, can’t prove that. She does her taxes – nope, can’t prove that either.” Loudly I say, “She pays the registration on her car,”
“Nope, actually, she doesn’t.”
“Ok…” The ball continued to make thwacking noises into our gloves. I couldn’t even say, “She rescues dogs,” because she spent a fortune on some weird hybrid dog from West Virginia, a thousand plus miles away. What a fucking waste. “Ok, she has rich parents!”
We stopped throwing and came closer. “I’m sorry. I can only come up with two. Could she say 3 nice things about me?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, she –” and he suddenly broke off and clammed up.
“Nothing. Never mind,” and he resolutely refused to carry on.
It was mysterious to me why he forced me to do this little exercise and I resented it. It was bad enough in the car. What the fuck is going on in his head?? Just then, Hailey rolled up and to his credit he was the consummate gentleman. He didn’t even look sideways at her — those lascivious glances were reserved for me.
They’d met briefly once before after our first game when she and I were going to sub on his team. She’s 10 years my junior and looks like I did in my early 20s: athletic, small-busted. She’s petite where I am substantial. I like her, though think she’s rough around the edges, a little too insecure and a lot clueless.
We headed to the diamond with our gear and started warming up. TN took the mound, Hailey lurked in left field and I stretched at home. An older Hispanic man in a white tank top and khaki Dickey’s lounged on the bleachers behind home base, his elbows on his knees. I could smell his Axe body spray and wondered if he was looking at my ass.
Then, with glee and skill, I hit ball after ball, right over shortstop into left field as TN pitched to me. I wore a short black skirt stretched taut on my round bottom, Converse dusted in dirt, and a shirt that read, “Neither Here Nor There”. My smile never left my face.
Hailey ran and ran in the outfield, then headed for home to hit. I coached her from behind the pitcher, “Don’t take your eye off the ball! Follow throw with your swing! Make him pitch to you!” She made some cracks, but was inconsistent. I broke into a sweat from running from right to left fields and smirked as TN and I made dirty banter on the pitcher’s mound out of her earshot.
Then I pitched and he hit deliberate line drives as my young teammate flailed around in the outfield and tried to throw the balls back in to me. She was a sad little monkey caught in our crossfire in more ways than one.
On the way home we chatted amiably enough, our anger at one another seemingly shelved. I felt good about his overall behavior during practice and my red face and sweaty back filled me with energy. I told him Noodle was coming to see me this Friday. “I’m gonna take her to dinner and drinks then just come back to my place to drink and hang out. I want to spend as much time as I can with her.”
“Oh cool,” he remarked remembering I’d told him about her a few months ago. “How long is she staying? She’s a man killer, right?”
“Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Just one night. I’m thinking of taking her to one of my favorite restaurants.”
“Your favorite sushi place??”
“Oh hell, no, I can’t afford that!”
“What if I took you both out? Could I get a double blowjob?”
I’m pretty sure I laughed, but I felt slapped again. I don’t know what I have to do to get him to stop with this bullshit. Yell? Scream? Storm out? I was going 75 on the highway with the windows down. I’m sure he wouldn’t have felt much if I’d pushed him out of the car right then.
But I’m cooler than that — as always, so cool. When a normal woman would rage I roll. “I don’t know if she’d be down, but she might be. I’ll ask her.”
He tensed in his seat. “Really??”
“Yeah, sure, why not? Just a double blowjob, right?” I had visions of Noodle and I on our knees, our tongues lapping at his huge, turgid length, our cheeks brushing against each other, our breasts pressed against his knees, and then abruptly stopping and asking him to leave. “Nothing more.”
“Yeah, just a double blowjob.” He was getting more excited, I could see. “Maybe a double-double. Like two! No — I couldn’t do that. That’d make me a John. She’d really do it? Well, it’d sort of be like dating, you know, because of dinner…” his oral internal dialogue only served to push me further into an angry corner. Did he really think this was a good idea?
I parked and he put my hand on his erection. I stroked it kindly while I fumed, angry at both of us. We unloaded and climbed the stairs. He set my cooler down in my darkened apartment and left. I immediately texted Noodle to tell her.
Of course, it will never happen. I simply couldn’t handle it. Also, Noodle has no desire. She loves me more than some cock.
The only reason I went with his suggestion was so that I wouldn’t have to get mad. That’s right. So I wouldn’t have to get mad. My aversion to anger is practically a pathology at this point. But then I did get angry. Alone. I yelled at him in the shower and continued to yell as I got dressed. “I don’t have to justify why I don’t want to hear about the women you want to fuck!” I said loudly to his imaginary face, “It’s enough that I don’t want to hear it! Why not tell Justin or Aman? Why do you think telling your ex-lover who told you she was in love with you 2 months ago is a good idea?? You’re a fucking dick! Stop, stop, stop!!”
I don’t want to hear angry musings of his on how he wants to fuck this chick that I know or that chick that I know, or hear mean sarcasm drip from his mouth. I don’t want to call him names or talk about the tall hot guy on his softball team. I don’t want to feel defensive every time an attractive girlfriend comes over when he asks me about her, his eyes alight with interest.
I want to feel safe and loved again, gentle, Me. I can’t handle even one evening of erosion between us. It kills me.
I considered asking him to come over so we could talk, but decided I need to do this on my own. Like learning he lied to me recently I’m letting this tip the scales. Talking to him about how I feel about his insults and verbal assaults on my ears will only set me back on a path to him. I need to block that path. I need to find a new way around this.
I felt so good Sunday and it’s receded after one shitty little night. He’s never treated me this way before and I’m a little hurt and a lot confused.
We’ll see if Noodle gets to meet him this Friday, but a double blowjob will not be happening.