sex therapy & a place to crash

i just spent a few nights in Manhattan. i went down with this guy that's completely likeable but also completely unavailable. i wish he was miserable company.

the premise was that we'd stay at his sister's and see these two concerts. he said she'd be away skiing, but that wasn't the case. i was only planning on staying for one, but getting drunk in Chelsea with a hot guy is more fun than i thought it'd be. so i bought in for another round.

and this, despite the embarrassing fucking moments that transpired.

his sister has a really cute place, but it's small. kind of like a hallway that passes for an apartment because there are some utilities lining the walls and a bathroom at the end of the tunnel. her bed is in her living room and you kind of have to climb onto it via the couch. that was probably the most annoying aspect of the place. even moreso than the retarded neighbors that were clueless as to how to enter their own apartment or the constant heat that made for smelly bodies in the morning.

the first night we were there, we came back from the concert wreaking of marijuana. i think i had a contact high because when his sister pointed out this fact, i kind of got paranoid.

little did i know that my boy had previously asked his sister to politely get the fuck out of her own apartment so that we could sleep in her shoebox. so she put her puffy coat on over her PJs and grabbed a pillow to head to her gay friend's apartment for the night.

but before she left, she made some comments about our sexual activity. i'm not sure what they are, but my boy was laughing and blushing. and i was grateful that i couldn't hear them.

then she shuts the door and says, "oh you know what i have?!" i cringed, thinking she was going to whip out some condoms. later, my boy revealed that he had a similar expectation, thinking she was going to reveal some lube.

ha, even better.

it was flavored powder.

she put it on his arm. "lick it!"

he had to. she was persistant. i probably would've licked it too. "it tastes like vanilla!" she insisted.

"no, it tastes like powder." he was still laughing.

all i could do was cringe in the corner. i felt about 17.

i left her a bottle of wine with a little note. an expensive bottle, or tasteful, i think, by my standards. i hope that's an appropriate "thanks" for some sexual therapy and a place to crash.

remind me tell you about his cartoon moment later. it involves a pillow, a naked ass, and a screaming sister. and of course me, laughing.