You may be surprised to know that I used to date a man.
It was a total disaster.
He was, in the words of my beard, a total cunt!
And as a lesbian she was rather partial to cunt.
It didn’t help that he played rugby league either.
We had nothing in common, absolutely nothing.
Movie night: he wanted action, I wanted sci-fi.
Drinks in town, he wanted to hang with his friends, and I hated them.
And the arguments!
They were awful.
Shouting and screaming, followed by bouts of simmering resentment.
There were times it got really nasty.
My apartment would be smashed up.
There were bumps and bruises.
I’d have my hands around his throat.
God knows what the neighbours were thing?
Listen to them duorty queers, at it again!
It finally dawned on us both.
We actually hate each other.
I say hate. Not hated.
I still hate his guts.
I’m sure he detests me too.
But we just love fucking each other.
It could never last.
Oh God no.
One us would have eventually killed the other.
Probably during sex
Imagine trying to explain that to the Garda?
We still see each other.
One us will send a txt the other : free tonight?
I prefer to go to his, I can’t bare him being in my place.
We might have a beer, make small talk.
But we’re not there to talk.
Talking to him only makes me want to hit him.
So we get down to it.
I fuck him as hard as I can.
He leers at me like I’m some worthless scumbag.
Fuck its good.
We dress, in silence, and I leave.
Until next time…….
Now buy my books!