My ISO : Nothing you haven't ever seen.
Paul : Well you're no longer a boy it seems.
My ISO : Paul, repeat after me. Carbs are not our friends.
Paul : That's your fucking foreplay!?
Have to admit my ISO and I are a bad influence on each other. Reason enough we usually got split up in class seating arrangements each time we got together. Separately we usually don't get into much trouble - we play our parts as responsible matured adults. But when we get together, all hell breaks loose and suddenly we're back in high school engaging in hijinks and getting into trouble.
Like the day we walked by a clothing store with an unattended changing room. We do have a thing for Marks & Spencers. Nothing happened this time of course, we just liked to make some noise.
Reason enough a couple of my friends have made numerous comments whether it's safe to be that close to an ex. Better to err on the side of caution, they say. After all, relationships with the InSignificant Other are always fraught with nervous tension and hidden dangers - fatal attraction amongst other things. Usually I'd be the first to laugh that off. Come on, seriously. Going through another round of painful heartache and relentless headbanging that I did with my ISO all over again?
God forbid, I am no masochist.
An interesting lunch!
Then we had pigs in the blanket the other day and I realized that some dire visions can be shockingly prophetic.
Paul : God, I've been having meat cravings for days.
My ISO : Oh yeah, that good eh? Come and suck on mine instead.
Paul : Don't tempt me. I'd suck you dry in a second.
My ISO : Here. Dare you to take a bite.
I'd be the first to admit that our trashy X-rated talk should only be found between the covers of tacky gay porn featuring hunky East European twinks with lousy accents and big cocks. Certainly not suitable for public consumption - or even the dubious delight of the ogling waitresses - but hey, we can be shameless.
Not as shameless as my sudden unbidden thought when he dared me with that piece of delicious pork chop dripping with cholesterol. At that moment, all I could think was... Bloody fucker, was that a dare? I should show him! Bite on that lush lower lip of his and...
Our eyes met and he had that wicked knowing sneer again.
Not only did I draw back mentally from the licentious thought, I also did that physically as well. Whereupon I practically slid off the stool onto the floor. Turns out my ISO can still be a pain in my ass - and not in a good way. Of course I blame that sudden bit of insane lustfulness on my excessive pent-up hormones during the recent sexual drought. He was hot. He was available. He was offering me meat. How could I say no?
But not only did I refuse his charming offer, I also turned all flustered virgin. Really. Believe me, I have never done flustered babbling nor coyly virginal. No wonder he stared at me like I'd grown two heads when I mumbled some rubbish about having to meet a friend and hustled him off on his scheduled afternoon business meets. So never living that down if he finds out.
Looks like I so need a chaperon.