I could have fucked her. If I had played my cards right. If I had gone for the makeout earlier. I got her back to my house. I got her shirt off, anyway, although she kept buttoning her pants back up. But when I was kind of kissing around her hipbones, she was getting really hot. So, I should have played it better. I should have gotten those pants off. I could have done it. I could have gotten her hot enough to get her pants off, and then I would have fucked her. And I would be just as hung over, just as sleep-deprived, just as tired, but I would have gotten laid.
Because now I need to get laid. Getting laid by a new woman is like methadone and my maintenance dose is running out. Last new girl I fucked was the end of January. So that’s how long it lasts. About a month. About a month between fucking a new chick and feeling again like I’m completely undesirable. Continue reading