Truth Merchants

Tobias Hustleman 10 July 2008 Relationships 92 views No Comment Print This Post  Email This Post

The more they stay the same.  The girl next door sneaks a kiss on your cheek.  You blink and all of your “friends” in middle school have tits. You get a job and a cute co-worker grabs your junk…

It Happened Again…

I revisited a moment from my childhood. For a young man, this is always one of those turning point moments. Before I get into the details, let me preface by saying this is not about popping my first boner, noticing a pube, or my voice cracking one million times. Ironically, it’s just as big as those though.

For the gentleman, did any of you have a tomboy female friend you were growing up with that magically got banging overnight?  What’s worse is she was just as athletic after maturing into womanhood but God ruined your friend by making her a girl? It’s a tough situation and one that makes it hard to cope. One day, you’re on the b-ball court and she slaps you in the face for moving while trying to draw a charge. Later, you draw a charge and there’s a woman laying on you with tiggol bitties in your face. Naturally, your male systems kick in and your sundial is at high noon. To say the least, the situation is awkward what with the newfound breasts and male erection piercing through 100% cotton t-shirts and ball shorts respectively. Usually, you don’t experiment sexually because the day you realize she’s good looking, she has the hots for the prick down the street who could throw a football farther.

Today, this still happens. She could be your drinking buddy, a co-worker, the gym rat, or just a fellow Tarheels fan. You drink together a million times. You’re silly drunk all over each other, but on your business trips, you escort her to the room and then leave. You’re friends. Neither of you thinks it will go there. Of course there are inquiries from spectators who comment that there must be something going on.  A decent looking guy and gal hangout but there is no action? How can there be no action in this sex crazed society?

Nah man…

The response was always, “We’re genuine friends.” Heck, how can you not like the girl who made a bet on the boxing match or says I’d rather drink and gamble than go to the clubs in Vegas? It’s like a tractor beam of unfemininity that slowly pulls you in without knowing it.

This thing goes both ways. I don’t count myself as the smoothest piece of silk, and I don’t think my G is world class. My tactics are effective enough though. In these cases with female friends, I legitimately treat them as friends. There may be a small window for a pass, but the friendship always outweighed the get down. My game is all passive resistance. I mean of course you’re a good looking girl and we hang out. I don’t have to make a move.  Still though, I am just a man. I can only resist you as much as you resist me. If both parties flirt enough, the proverbial shoe drops and some magic happens. Things then get interesting as your woman friend sees you with other girls who she thinks may not be as hot as her—or maybe you don’t seem attracted to her.  So she calls down deep into her female instincts and puts the baseball infield shift on you.

Let’s say you’re out, and after your fifth beer and fifth margarita, you’re laughing and her hand falls on your thigh. At first, it’s nothing. You continue to joke and yell at the game on t.v. She bends over to play pool and you notice her shirt is hanging a little low today.

Fuck!

Refocus!

She makes the shot and brushes your situation when she walks by you. Mercury levels are starting to rise. At this point, you’re still cool because you’re a little dense when it comes to women making the move. After some flirting both ways, you head back to the hotel and it’s time for the goodnight. There is some lingering this time. You stand chatting and that same tractor beam that was unfeminine is now pulling you in with every bit of sexual tension you can imagine.

At some point, you both wonder how you’ve never gotten to this point before and by the time you get there, the yellow brick road is in Oz. You’ve figured out that you could have gotten home anytime you felt like it but it was always fun to hangout. Truthfully, the story could end in a million different scenarios but I’ll let you pick the one that fits your story. You can comment from there.

For me, I’ll never divulge too much.