BELLY FLOP

I pulled up to the gas station, windows down, sunroof open, music blasting, hair flailing all over the place. I saw him from the corner of my eye and in one milli-second, I processed it all:

That car looks familiar. He looks familiar. Oh shit, it's HIM! I haven't seen him in four years. Thank goodness I put on make-up before I left the house. Be smooth, Chubby. Are those two kids sitting in the backseat? Get out the car slowly and pop your ass out.

He said my complete name, including the middle one. I did the same. "I see you still got them tig ol' bitties..." He was the only man I let talk to me that way. He reminded me of that porno dude, wessly pipes. Loved talking shit.

We made small talk and exchanged numbers. I left for London (I'll blog about that soon) for three weeks and the day after I got back, he called.

"When you gonna give me some cootchie?"
"Give me your address and I'll be there in 40 minutes."

After it was over, we slept in the spooning position. He was snoring in my ear, so I needed to shift. I made a swift move to turn away from him and I heard a clapping sound...It was my belly.
The noise broke his snoring and he lifted his head up....I held my breath and clinched my eyes shut.

"Did you just make your ass clap?"

"uhmmm, yeap."

"I like the sound of that." He plopped his head back on the pillow and went back to snoring.



Thank God the lights were out.