PounceSo, Iím not glowing in the dark...yet. Give it 25 years and I might. Although, I did thoroughly read the NO CAMPING sign; no mention of nuclear waste. It did mention something about hunting season, but no bullets in my ass that I know of. Itís a good thing my tent is bright yellow.
I went with John, a guy Iíve known since I was about two; heís like a brother. However, in my delusional state of self-inflicted abstinence, I couldnít help but notice that heís pretty damn cute. I tried rationalizing having sex with him. Nothing I told myself justified it enough to risk the friendship. So, with the exception of a few bugs, I slept alone in my fluorescent yellow tent.
We spent the days wandering through the meadows and fishing in the stream, which by the way, has to be the most relaxing thing on the planet. Of course, it could just be that I lack any skill and I just sit there with a beer in my hand. It wouldíve been quite romantic had it not been with John.
We toasted marshmallows by the fire, drank our little hearts out, and talked about how much we both missed having sex. Apparently, itís been a long four months (aww...poor him). We both agreed that sleeping with each other would solve the physical aspect of our problem, but cause too many ďemotionalĒ ones. Couldnít he have brought along a friend? Preferably single, funny, cute and ready-and-willing? Boys Ė they never think ahead.
Is this how it feels to be a guy? Constantly contemplating sex? It seems every waking hour (and quite a few sleeping ones, too) I think about getting laid. Every single guy I pass by, I size up. Iím like the proverbial panther - ready to pounce. I feel so dirty. They should really make a pill for this.