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It has happened.  After a seven month hiatus, I am sated. 

The awkward conversation quickly forgotten, I accepted Rocket Man’s morning proposal to meet at his place later in the day and finally, FINALLY get my swerve on.  It was well worth the drive, and I am happy to report that Superman did not ruin me for all other men.  As a matter of fact, he may have fixed me.  I saw the holy light six times in an hour and a half, which may be a record.  It didn’t hurt that Rocket Man apparently picked up a homing beacon from my G-spot about two minutes after we hit the sheets.  Hallelujah!

I learned some interesting things about myself yesterday.  You know how a song or movie can remind you of a past love and instantly bring you back to that time when things were right?  I apparently get that nostalgia from fornication.  I was kind of shocked by it at first, but let’s face it – that was pretty much the crux of my relationship with Superman.  Having sex with someone else made me miss him.  It was pretty damn confusing for a minute there, but it didn’t take me long to get my head back in the game. 

Thinking about it on the way home, I realized that he is the reason I am so comfortable with who I am today.  I was downright nervous as I got ready yesterday, and I covered every little spot on my body with color-balancing toner, matte powder, and every other type of makeup that could possibly enhance or hide all my little flaws.  I remembered the times Superman said I looked incredibly sexy with dark, smokey eyes, and how he liked it when I wore this or that, and I tried to recreate the most desirable moments of my life.  Evidently it worked, because I got an honest-to-God compliment when I arrived, and my shirt was off before the dust had settled.  After that I had no worries about being fat or disappointing, because I knew I could be everything Rocket Man wanted and more.  Superman taught me that.  If someone so handsome tells you that you’re beautiful and everything you do is amazing, it must be true, right?

When I got home that night I wrote Superman a letter.  I thanked him for helping me get past all my insecurities and teaching me to love myself again.  I told him I met someone new, and even though things did not end well between us, I appreciate the difference he made in my life.  I also told him to send me a cunnilingus how-to manual, because I have no idea how to explain the way he operated that magic tongue.  (Not that I’m complaining, since Rocket Man has magic fingers…)  He wrote back right away, saying that I should never put myself down because I am one of the best women he ever dated, sexy in every aspect, and he was a fool to let me go.  It was nice to hear.  I feel like this is finally the end to a chapter I thought I had finished long ago.  I got closure, and I can truly move on.

I’m still not sure that I’ll ever fall head over heels in love with Rocket Man, but I really enjoy our time together and I don’t want to waste it.  Even if he did scare the shit out of me at one point since I thought he was about to choke me out.  For just a moment I was deciding whether to punch him in the face or go with it, until I realized he was putting his arm under my neck, but not around it.  Just goes to show, you never know what kind of freak you are until something freaky is about to happen.

I shall end this post as I began it, which is also the way I ended the evening’s conversation with Rocket Man. 

Thanks for the orgasms.  Much obliged.

The Silly Girl

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