Over the course of about a month and a half Alyna and I have fucked enough for me to know the following things: She likes it when I spread her ass cheeks apart in doggie style and press my thumb on her asshole; she can’t cum unless I talk dirty or spank her; and she loves to have me stick my cock halfway in, then jerk me off so I shoot a load in her pussy.
But as we eat Combo Burritos at the Taco Bell by the Beverly Center, I’m not thinking about any of these things. I’m thinking about the fact that Casey is fucking pregnant. I only vaguely remember the last few times we fucked, and even though I know a large percentage of those times ended with me blowing my load all over her face/ass/ stomach, I do remember at least a few times that I shot my load in her cunt because she said she didn’t like it when I came on her face. I shouldn’t have let her manipulate me. This entire thing could have been avoided. I wonder if Alyna would care if I had a kid.
I’m chewing on a piece of Combo Burrito and thinking of ways to have Casey accidentally die when Alyna says, “If we were out somewhere and ran into some friend of yours that I haven’t met, how would you introduce me?”
“I’d say…this is Alyna. How would you introduce me?”
“I don’t know, I might say something like…this is my boyfriend. What do you think of that?”
I chew a piece of my burrito as I give it some thought. I say, “I wouldn’t mind.” Strangely, I really wouldn’t.
“And you wouldn’t mind if I was your girlfriend?” I wouldn’t mind this, either.
I say, “No. Would you?”
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be asking. I just felt like we see each other so much and I like you a lot and it seems like you like me just as much…. We might as well be official.”
I search for the uneasy paranoia this conversation should be building in me, but it’s not there. What is there is a strange sense of relief, which doesn’t bother me as much as it should. I’m actually happy to have another girlfriend, and not because a girlfriend means free and easy fucking, but because my new girlfriend is Alyna. I almost feel like telling her about the impending life-ruining child I’m about to have with my ex-girlfriend but decide that until the kid exists it’s not worth bringing up.
She says, “You don’t feel weird about it being so soon after both of us just getting out of relationships?”
“No.”
“Me either. Does it make you feel weird that you don’t feel weird?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
“Does it make you feel weird that I don’t feel weird?”
“No.”
“I’m driving you crazy with this, right?”
“No.”
“So then it’s official. You’re my boyfriend and I’m your girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“Does that kind of excite you?”
As we talked I hadn’t thought about it, but now that she brings it up it does kind of excite me. I’ve never had a girlfriend that I’ve found as attractive as Alyna, nor have I had one that I’ve wanted to spend as much time with.
She says, “You know what we should do to celebrate?”
“What?”
She says loud enough for the lady hobo sitting in the corner to hear, “We should go back to your apartment and fuck.”
I’ve also never had a girlfriend who’s wanted to have sex enough to propose it in a Taco Bell in front of a hobo.
We finish our Combo Burritos as Creed’s “(Can You Take Me) Higher” starts to play on the Taco Bell radio system and the lady hobo stands up, raises her arms to the heavens, and sings along with Scott Stapp.
Back at my apartment I’ve been fucking Alyna up against my bedroom wall for a few minutes and I’m about to blow my load. The thought of fathering two children with different women drives me to pull out and shoot semen all over her ass and legs. As I fall back onto my bed and Alyna goes to the bathroom to clean herself up, I wonder what my kid is going to look like and wish I was dead.