There Matt goes again. He’s closed the door, turned the fan on and flushed the condom down the toilet. It’s his normal routine.
And here I go again. Every time Matt palms my ass with his hand and yanks the ends of my hair, I moan a generic “baby” so I don’t screw up his name.
Matt and I have another again, two, maybe three times a week. We have polite conversation over a delectable lunch, leading to polite caressing of my inner thigh and finishing with a carnal, voracious “lunch date.”
But every time, I see a light. It’s a text message from Alec. He inquires, “How’s your day sweetheart?” And every time Matt shuts that door, I quickly respond to Alec’s text message with the same enthusiasm I allot to shoe shopping: overly energetic, but still cautious. I respond quickly because I want to gain Alec’s trust through a false image. Ironically, I do it all with lies.
Matt knows how to ignite a cannibalistic appetite that I force myself to stifle for Alec. Matt is the Valium to my body’s tension, but Alec is the opiate to my mind’s restlessness.
With Alec, my voice shakes and palms sweat. I often have to catch myself from slipping along the beauty of his words. Romancing his thoughts and caressing his goals creates rainfalls between my thighs that soften the lace on my panties. As soon as I schedule a “lunch date” with Alec, like I have with Matt, it will destroy the mutual fascination we have created. The moment I moan “Alec,” my feelings for him will float away.
So I designate a man to exercise my needs for skin slapping, breast squeezing, juices flowing, “lunch dating.” Not being able to speak for Matt, I am only able to confirm every lunch reservation because of the emptiness he stirs in me, and the complimentary meal, of course.
But Alec and I differ from anything Matt and I could ever accomplish. I want Alec’s mind to take me on a “lunch date,” not just his body. But if I were to prematurely schedule this “date,” it would finish the chase, kill my fascination and taint the image of innocence I have created for him. My actions, to some, may show the opposite, but for me, I’m just expanding my palate with various “lunch dates.”
This often has me wondering, is it like this for every college woman? Do women need two guys, one for the body and one for the mind? Why can’t women “lunch date” whom they choose? Must we play a game?
A study published this March in the College Student Journal, interviewed 1,013 college students and found that the “nature of friends with benefits relationships are sexual and engaged in by nonromantic, hedonistic males who have a pragmatic view of relationships.”
I guess most college women aren’t like me. Where am I to be placed in this data?
I love romance and want to satisfy my man. I am a voluptuous woman and don’t always think relationships make sense.
So maybe this study has got it all wrong? Or maybe the looking glass I see myself through is a little tainted and dirty?