I’m looking through some old boxes for the Nintendo Power Glove that I got for my seventh birthday. As I take some old books from college out of a box, a picture of my old girlfriend Jenna falls out of one. It’s a picture that I took of her on the beach when we went to Martha’s Vineyard one summer.
I am surprised that seeing this picture makes me stop looking for the Power Glove and sit down to think about that summer and about Jenna, who I realize is now married to the shark-toothed manager of NASCAR Superstore and possibly has given birth to his shark-toothed child.
I remember that she liked to fuck outside and we fucked that summer on the beach, not far from the exact location she’s standing on in the picture. I wonder if her shark-toothed husband fucks her outside. I wonder if she likes it when he jerks off in front of her. I wonder what my life would be like if she had stuck to her plan of moving to Los Angeles when she graduated. I wonder if she’s fat.
In the picture she’s far from it. She’s wearing a bikini that accentuates her already ample C-cup tits. She’s standing at an angle so her ass, which was always a little too flat for my taste, but still a great ass, looks better than I remember it. Her stomach is defined but not overly muscular.
I try to remember our first few dates and can’t. For some reason I remember a specific date we had sometime in the middle of our relationship when she dragged me to a Renaissance fair and paid a fat ugly high school girl in a wench costume two dollars to kiss me. I remember her rubbing my back once when I was sick. I remember renting The Natural with her because she had never seen it. I remember her telling me that when she was a little kid she thought Frisbees were gas-powered.
I put the picture back in the book and put the book back in the box.
When I try to jerk off to memories of fucking Jenna I can’t cum, so I spend ten minutes downloading some Internet porn and end up blowing my load to the image of a skinny, pale girl with smaller than average tits and a mole right above her pussy taking it up the ass and saying, “That’s it—clean it out, clean it out.”