I have not had sex in seven months. To me this is as unbelievable as not having a glass of wine in twenty-four hours. How can I be without a man in my bed for so long? Have I lost my touch? Has my ass gotten fatter? Something had to be done immediately. No wonder I've been so testy. I decided in a moment of weakness and horniness to dust off the black book. I was feeling very kittenish and this kitty had a scratch to itch where the toys were not cutting it anymore. Like a tree needs the sun, I needed flesh. I was almost appalled at letting myself go for so long.
I send a text to an old friend whom I played with from time to time. A former boyfriend and an ex Olympic swimmer, I know this man could appease the beast. He answers my text with, "My girlfriend just told me she has herpes and we are meeting my parents in 20 for dinner."
Ugh.

Next was my old boyfriend with ten inches and no heart. As I went to dial the number remembered how he hit on my friend when I went to the bathroom at a club and didn't even deny it. He brought up something about a three way and taking "e". I actually decided to not call that man. What a prick. He doesn't deserve the goods, especially after seven months.
I ran down the willing number of possible people that lived in my building and they go as follows:
1. A bi sexual goth that wears more make up then I do.
2. A suicidal tweaker that weighs about forty pounds less then I do.
3. A stoner 22 year old that can't hold up his head let alone keep that up.
4. A granola toting, no sense of humor lesbian.
5. Nigel (no chance in hell)

Then out of nowhere, my ex calls me. It was like the Gods were smiling upon me. Walter and I dated on and off for a few years and he always delivered. Why had I not thought of him before? I cheated on my ex with him in a moment of weakness, which lead to me dumping him, which I never regretted. He had not seen my new place. I used that for my in. Later that night, I lit all the candles to set the mood, fluffed my pillows and my tail. I was ready to pounce.
He arrives with a bottle of wine and before we know it, we are totally naked in my bed. Five hours of bliss later, we are spooning and it feels amazing. Then I think, maybe he isn't so bad after all. Maybe we could work out. He could be a boyfriend. I get all drunk in the after sex high. When the morning rolls around he rolls over and offers to take me to brunch. I relish it. Great sex and great food. Does life get better?
We eat at La Poubelle on Franklin and I love the vibe. The after glow of the sex made my skin look peachy and the mimosa was a nice touch to the people watching on a busy Sunday afternoon. We don't say much and as the bill arrives, then the bombshell hits. "I can't rehash anything with you. We just don't get along. " But what about last night? If I recall you came five times." I say. He says, " Last night was great but there is no future." All of a sudden I came to the realization that I was growing up. It felt like a truck hit me. This is how real women felt when really bad shit happens to them. I felt it in my gut. No longer were my feeling thrown away by they wayside as I slid into cheap meaningless sex with someone. I was starting to feel and it didn't feel good. I stood up from my brunch and looked at him and said ,"Thanks for ruining my favorite people watching, get drunk at noon spot, asshole." And I walked off.

As I got home, I burned the black book. There is a reason why Walter and all the other guys are in my past. Let the past be the past and time for a new improved. picky Nikki. It's almost refreshing.