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A satire on the relationship between men and women and the stereotypes thereof. How men are usually sex driven and women usually not, and wanting something more. This story explores how absurd it seems if the mental/emotional position switches genders.


Submitted:Sep 4, 2008    Reads: 337    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   


Penny The squeaky couch was always a sign that maybe, just maybe, I was getting closer to a stable relationship. Generally what the squeak of my basement couch meant was that I was fucking Penny. The norm turned out to be true again, particularly in this case. We were both dancers, tonight, in a special parade. The magical heat of the stars of the nighttime dripped into the mouths of Penny and I, blah, blah, blah we fucked, all right! We fucked a lot. The only thing we ever did, actually, was fuck. For most guys this would be the ideal relationship, but Fuck! I'm sorry for using such bitter manners of expression but it's beginning to drive me up the wall and past the coffee shop on the ceiling, if you know what I mean. We could never just sit and talk, Penny and I. She couldn't just get beside her horny pussy and just come to my house to cuddle, maybe play Yahtzee or go on a walk and steal flowers from people's gardens. Penny, with her seriously uninterrupted desire to have sex, was my one and only real passion. She was slowly becoming a mission that I only wanted to go on so that I might be able to NOT have sex 4 times a week. It was nauseating, fellows, I'm sorry. Every day at around 5 o'clock, when I got home from work, I would step into my small 3 bedroom home that I had lucked upon. She would usually call around 6 o'clock, on tuesday through friday, just to let me know she was still coming over. Hold on, I'm being unfair. Penny. Penny had the most breathtaking smile. A gentle purple, very light in hue, very soft. It was a moving blockade up against the berths of her cheeks. Her dimples just above her smile made me cringe(in a good way; the best way) when I saw them. She honestly was just too beautiful to pass up. She was about 5'7" tall, which was only a few shorter than me. Her eyes, next, were a gentle gray. They looked mystifying, like a thick fog that made everything inside of it become like treasure just yearning to be found. I looked into them whenever I wanted to learn something new. Her hair was a syrupy brown, about shoulder length, maybe longer. "Penny, I think we should talk." I told her tonight, just after she arrived from buying me take-out. It was like some prostitution fee or some slutty courtesy or something. I tried to appreciate it anyway. "What about, pookie?" She said in a playful, sexy voice that I love. She was kissing my neck and I was rolling my eyes. "I just..." I paused and took her hand off of my penis and her her off of me. "Would love it if we could not just have sex all the time that you come over." A moment or two passed. "Why not have sex?" Penny inquired. "Do you not like it? What are you getting at? Do you not want to see me anymore?" "Penny, I think that from the amount of times I've fucked you you should know I wish to see you still withstanding." I countered. "and the sex feels amazing. I'm incredibly attracted to you." "Then, what is it?" Penny asked, almost seeming annoyed. Hey, horny, I'm asking the questions. "I just feel a little bit like you don't like me, and that all this relationship is to you is sex." I said, in the station of a question. "I am very glad you've at least lent me your body to become one with 4 times a week, but I wake up every day hoping for something more." "So, what, I'm just a human with feelings for you to fall in love with and treat right?" "Yeah?" I said, not knowing how she had gotten the drop on me. "Well, ok then." She stood up and walked out of my house. Didn't say goodbye, didn't give me a reason. In retrospect it was almost as if she had gotten offended when I told her that my life involving her wanted to be more than just a penis vagina relationship. I called her apartment around an hour later. Her roommate Cece answered. "Hello, this is Cece." "Hey Cece, can I speak to Penny please?" In the background I could hear someone ask a question of specification as to the person on the phone. All Cece said was: "The guy you fuck a lot." "Tell him I don't want to talk to him. Not if he's going to be so rude." "Oh, so now we're 7?" "No, we're 5." Penny countered. Cece directed the conversation toward the phone call, "Well, sorry, but she's being a bit stubborn and childish right now." "Yeah, I heard that whole conversation." I said in a desperate chuckle. I was trying not to be angry. "Yeah, try later maybe." In the background I heard something about not wanting to be talked to. "Thanks Cece." The phone dropped its position back into its cradle. I walked up and down the stairs of my house, wishing with every sag and bone of me that Penny would call, or not want to fuck me. I stood at the top step for about ninety minutes just crying about the fact that I was the one guy who didn't want unrelenting sex 4 times a week. "What the hell, bro?" Hanson screamed for the pub to hear. "What? What's wrong with wanting emotion out of life?" I asked in return. "It's stopping you from getting your man sausage wet every day but fucking monday man! Everything is wrong with that. Dude, you need to apologize and go back to sexing her all the time." "I would love to at least be on speaking terms with her. God, I wish I could be like other guys who loved to be blown and get straddled, and nothing else." Just an update, it had been about 2 weeks since the thing with Penny. "Just let her bawl you man. It's not hard." Hanson was far too persistent. "Just be drunk all the time." He suggested, with a genius grin and a little grunt of satisfaction. "Then you won't need feelings, and you'll forget your unexplainable desire to NOT have sex, you freak!" He finished by backhanding my shoulder playfully. "No! I can't just always be drunk. Do you know how expensive that is?" I was just trying to be sensible. "Are you gay?" "No, I'm not." "Well, I think you are.รข "I'm not." I didn't even get agitated. I just said it. It didn't matter to me whether or not a vaj hungry monster like Hanson thought I was gay. Sex is one of the least important aspects of my life. The conversation that night ended eventually. I walked home with Hanson singing some Ricky Martin song the whole way, drunk as ever. I had called Penny's apartment 14 times since the event. So far I had received 13 answering machine invites. The one call was Cece. I really didn't understand why Penny didn't want to talk to me. Noon, the sun was shining, my head was hanging, and serendipity was being negated and applied to my life. I was walking down a street familiar to me, and I saw a rose colored pair of jeans out of the corner of my eye. I followed them up past the belly, covered in a yellow tank top, to the syrupy hair attached to Penny's beautiful head. She lifted a newspaper and began to read it. I took the chance I felt I needed to. "Hey...uh...Penny." I said, hoping it wouldn't drive her away, as I sat down. She looked my direction and began to stand. "Wait!" I yelled, probably too loudly. "Can we just talk for a sec." "Fine, what do you want?" She snarled. "I want...I want to be able to sit and look at you. I want to be able to talk all night to you. I want you to occasionally stay at my place. I want you to fuck me, and then stick around for some television or a game of Hide and Seek, or something." There was a long pause while, I'm quite certain, Penny was calculating words in her head. "Well...that's sweet, in a really boring way." By boring she probably meant: having nothing to do with sex. "But, that's not what I want." And all too suddenly she was gone from my life again. She stood up, scowled, put on her purse and walked into the open air. She stepped, the legs moving flawlessly together. In a flash, my life became that same pacey, uncomfortable thinking game. I tried, rehashing and rehashing in my mind, to decide what I had done wrong. Every writhing moment I got closer and closer to agreeing with Hanson, that I should just fuck her. I hated that I was limiting myself to agreeing with him, and her, just so I could be back in a shit relationship that just revolves around sex. Ring... Ring... Ring... Lack of answer. Ring... Ring... Ring... Lack of answer. This is what filled up my time. I called maybe once a day. It was now 6 weeks in since the happening. I just wagged my tail and continued to go to work in vain. I hated living every moment I pictured Penny having a happy life with someone else, slipping another man's dick into her vagina. I often made myself cry by thinking this way. Around every turn I hoped to see her to tell her I was sorry and just wanted to fuck her again. 7 weeks, 6 days, 14 hours: Epiphany! Sometimes men give women elaborate or sentimental gifts to make up for sleeping with another woman, being a jerk, saying something rude, etc. Well the same will work for me I'm sure. I was probably 2 thousand steps from Penny's apartment. It was 2 p.m. I had made a vow to walk there, no transportation, with the present I had decided on. Present montage, collage, repertoire would be more fitting. Smoke drifted up from the cigarette of a woman who tried to hit on me as I walked by with my gifts. I watched her eyebrows raise when she realized that her fake breasts had failed to charm me. I walked. 1,000 steps and counting. Or so. I'm waiting for the light to let me walk across the street when a short Asian girl comes up to me, mumbles something in English or Japanese, and starts stroking my chest. Disappointed when I just simply walk away, she pouts her Asian porn-face to try and entice me. I'm not a single bit tempted. I'm at the door. Knock. Rustling. Movement. The door opens, and it's a sweaty version of Cece. "Oh, hey." She smiles awkwardly, interrupted while doing exersise. "Hey, is Penny here? I...uh...brought her something." I said as she stepped toward the door. "Fuck off, man. You haved called me every day for 7 weeks. I haven't answered one goddamn time. What makes you think you can come here?" She seemed in a good mood, sweaty as well. "I brought you a present." "Let me guess, some pansy shit like roses?" She knew nothing about me. "Keep 'em." "Nah, just open it." I reply. I hold the box out for her, still smiling hopefully. She takes the box nervously/anxiously. She takes off the lid and her eyes light up as she finds a large box of 16 Trojan condoms, a rubber dildo, and some very male-enticing porn. All subtle suggestions that we should start fucking each other again. "God, I, I just can't believe this." Penny is beginning to tear up. "Thank you. So much." "You're welcome." I turned and walked out of her life, for the time being. I waited a whole three days. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello?" I answered. "Hey, it's Penny." "Hello. To what do I owe this pleasure?" "I've been such a cunt to you. I'm so sorry." "Apology accep-" "I got caught up in how good of a fucker you were, that I just forgot you existed. I didn't want to know anything about you but your penis." "I remember. It's ok. Really, Penny, I forgive you." "I love you. I want you back. Not just to fuck though. I want you for real." I had just found a genie in a lamp. No, better. Making three wishes was greedy next to this marvelous happening. "Penny, oh god, I love you too. Come to my place tonight?" "Well, I guess I could do that. But you should go open your front door now." I walked slowly up the stairs already knowing how the next hour and a half would go. I sat cuddling with Penny, completely incensed. Yeah, sure she came in the door and fucked me on the stairs, but no take out. No leaving. She sat and talked to me. I held her, nude and sexy as ever, and talked back.




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