Onion // 0:10 – 0:23
“Well, I’m working on it. Holy shit, I ignore so many problems. Holy shit this isn’t it. No one told me I was just an onion.” – Shannon & The Clams
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I should probably preface this entry with a couple disclaimers. I do not in fact think that I am above anyone else or that because I don’t share the same interests as someone they’re inherently boring. Especially anyone I fuck multiple times in various places. I am however easily bored with most people, unfortunately it takes a bit more than a cute smile and a good dick to hold my attention for more than a couple of months unfortunately. Who knows whether that’s my Gemini Venus or the ADHD, but it’s a well known fact to anyone who bothers to stick around long enough to get to know me & something most people find out too late.
Let me also say, there is absolutely nothing is wrong with having nothing in common with the fellow meatsack you choose to spend some/all of your sexual time with. It’s all personal preference and by June or July of that year I was figuring out at a rapid pace something I’d begun to discover before I ever stumbled across X: my preference was to be turned on both mentally AND physically. I’m a glutton for stimulation on every level.
Unfortunately for Mr. Peanut Butter, he was the poor bastard I was getting bored of. Every time I realized it, I reminded myself that at least his consolation prize was unlimited free pussy & attention for a few months.
I don’t need a lot from the people I plan to fuck/fuck with long term – I’ve come to find when they get bored or I do, I usually don’t even need a goodbye or closure if it was a superficial relationship to begin with. Gimme someone with a pleasant disposition, some common ground, someone who’s filled with stories of their own, shit to riff about & some party tricks in the sack & I’m pretty content to keep them around. I’m just like anyone else, but a bit more free with who and how I spend my time.
Mr. PB had a fantastic cock, cute face & ass that looked like it was chiseled out of slightly tanned marble, but goddamn if I could find anything beyond that to take interest in. It’s not even his fault really, perfectly normal, upper middle class dude. And…that was the issue. Every person I’ve met so far born without any generational trauma and/or with some money to their family name usually turns out to be a bore for someone like me. It’s not a factor of envy or anger aimed at them for having more than me. I’ve accepted where I stand in terms of that a long time ago and in most cases I’m happy for them, wish them no ill will, but if history is any indication, time is a flat circle and we probably won’t be buds very long.
Unbeknownst to anyone, even me (consciously anyway), I had also gotten it into my silly little slut head somewhere along the way that I wanted boyfriend. The last remnants of monogamy hadn’t worked their way fully out of my system yet & I knew damn well Mr. PB wasn’t gonna be that. He was a fun fuck when he put in the effort to be & had some pretty stellar music taste. Beyond that…I was bored again.
I was smacked with the realization one of the last times we met up. With X’s blessing we finally ventured out beyond our playroom in the basement and to PB’s place while X was off doing fuck knows what. Well, his mom’s place. A newly minted college graduate usually needs a safety net and not having to pay a ridiculous amount of rent was one that his advantages in life had afforded him. I’ll be honest, I didn’t really care. As someone who moved back in with their parents to help take care of them as they get older I didn’t really see it as weird as it would have been in the 80’s or 90’s. And it was rare as hell to have the level of freedom I was being afforded by X so I was gonna take every advantage of it I could.
I grabbed my drinks out of the car and slipped out into the shimmery summer heat, eye balling his neighborhood with slightly depressed confirmation of my original suspicions.
After he picked me up from my house, we stopped by the store, grabbed some drinks and headed over to his place. I had it in the back of my head that this was probably one of the last times I’d be seeing him so I wanted to get as much
Thinking on it now, it’s a shame I could never imagine finding him at Inferno, the ladies would fuckin’ love him & that fat cock he walks around with. Mr. PB was one of the many fuck friends I’ve had that I can genuinely say while it wasn’t for me, I hope he’s doing well.
So when (not if) he reads this, hi Mr. Peanut Butter! So long & thanks for all the dick!
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