“I thought I was going to have to slit the throat of my philosophy professor this afternoon.” This, of course, was from John. I laughed, and he continued. “It would be a mercy killing. You have no idea. I don’t understand how she can live with her uselessness. People like her need to die.” I had grown accustomed to his preoccupation with murder and death shortly after meeting him and it really was amusing, thus the smile on my face.“I’m serious! She explained to us today the practical use for questions like ‘Who am I’, or rather, why she asks herself these questions.” He made a sound that closely resembled a snarl. “For fun, she says! For fun!”
I laughed again and interrupted. “Oh, is that why? I would like this woman to have my life, just for an hour.”
“She has these discussions with her peers, FOR FUN!”
“In fact, I would like to speak to her- ask her Who I Am, let her have some fun.”
I rolled over to face him, and said something that I hope was witty, but our faces were close and it made me nervous. There was banter, we pretended we didn’t noticed and it really was about the banter. And then we were kissing. I don’t know why he kissed me, but he did, and I let him. Then, he told me he loved me, I stopped him, I told him I cared about him and that would have to be enough for then. Jesus, things moved fast.
“Careful.” I said.
“Um… I thought it would hurt…” I said.
He laughed. “Well, technically, it has done this before. “(I knew he was referring to specific body parts, but I pretended he was calling Rachael “it” because I liked that idea.)
“Alright, true. Mmm, am I doing this right? What do I do?”
“Whatever. We’re doing this together.”
“Oh God.” Media has taught me that calling out to a deity is a requirement for orgasm.
“Oh Bob.” John refers to himself as a ‘Dylanist’.
“Oh John.” This was a whisper.
“Oh Ra… um Page. Page. Oh Fuck.”(NO fuck.) OOPS!!! So much for my first time. I guess it was memorable, if nothing else.
I wrapped the covers around myself tightly. “…”
“Page, I…”
Glare.
“I’m sorry, Page.”
“…”
“It was a conditioned response.”
“…” Death glare. Hmm, mercy killing.
“I’m sorry.”
“…” It occurred to me that killing him wouldn’t hurt nearly enough.
