July 30th, 2004

Dil Domicile

(no subject)

My dad and I went down to our neighbor's for dinner tonight. And for some reason, people always think my corn-eating method is weird. Well... it is, really. I have to pick off each kernel, and I can't eat it any other way. I usually pick off the kernels around the base first, then go down 2 or 3 rows before thumbing off the rest of the kernels. It takes me an hour to eat corn on the cob, but I like it that way. It makes eating corn fun, and I appreciate each kernel, even if people look at me funny while I'm eating. Plus, I don't get corn stuck between my teeth as often. Yes, I'm weird, and I'm darn proud of it.

And sometimes random people you don't know have interesting lives, and you just have to write about them. So I wrote this tonight. It's short and kind of pointless, but I liked the idea behind it. I'm really sleepy right now, so my thought processes are weirder than usual, which probably explains this story. Here it is.


The doorbell rang as we lay there, clinging to each other, our bodies glued together with drying sweat and warmth. Andy peeled himself away and sat up, yawning. He reached for his crumpled jeans and pulled them on. I watched him shuffle out of my bedroom and clutch the wad of bills on my dresser.

I pulled the cool green sheet up to my chest and waited for him to return. It had been a lazy summer weekend, and we had spent the afternoon wrapped around each other. Fleeing reality through physical pleasure. It really beat grocery shopping and doing laundry.

Diana walked into the room, her fluffy black tail swaying. She glanced at me before hopping onto the bed, settling behind my knees. I could feel her purring, and for a moment I wished I could be a cat too. House cats definitely have it way too easy. Free food, no rent, warm laps, and affection. That's the perfect life.

Andy returned with a box full of pizza and a handful of paper towels. I stretched and sat up, grinning. He set the box on my bed and pulled off his jeans, sitting beside me. He always said that sex and pizza were the two best things in life. We each took a slice, sitting there naked with Diana snoozing beside us.

The cheese, sauce, mushrooms, and crust made love in my mouth as I chewed, their flavors dancing together on the bed of my tongue before sliding down my throat. A drop of sauce escaped the slice and splattered on my thigh. The heat stung for a moment, then dulled, and I reached for a paper towel. A trail of sauce smeared Andy's cheek, and I giggled.

After my third slice, I lay back, the roof of my mouth tingling. Why is pizza sauce always so hot, anyway? Andy set the pizza box on the floor and lay beside me, grinning. He leaned over and kissed me softly, and I closed my eyes. The world faded from my view, and all I could feel was Andy close to me, his fingers trailing across my belly as his lips brushed mine. And the pizza inside my belly, warm and delicious.
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