I knew, going in, no pun intended, that I would regret it. I knew that I wouldn't enjoy any of it, that I'd be mutilating my soul even further for no good reason whatsoever. And yet... I went. I think I met up wih her at our friend's flat after dinner, or maybe it was after I left work or something like that. There may have been some idle chit chat, nothing much in the way of foreplay - we eventually just jumped into bed, but for a while nothing happened. I can't stress just how unattractive and unappealing this girl was to me, and not only physically. She was very uninteresting, and we pretty much had nothing in common. And why she found something appealing in me I also can't fathom. Still, be that as it may, there we were, laying half-naked on a bed. She knew I had a girlfriend. I knew I had a girlfriend. What were we doing? What was I doing? Well, I was about to have just what I dreaded - very bad sex.
So, I never fooled myself into thinking that I would be having the best sex I'd ever had. In fact, I was prepared mentally for it to be bad. Or at least I thought I was. Because it wasn´t just the bad sex - and she was, to put it politely incredibly bad at it - it was also just how our bodies didn't seem to fit. How our skins just didn't... I don't know, mesh with each other. Nothing could connect us. Not then, not ever. And one thing I'll never be able to forget was just how weird she tasted. How... acidic it felt. Why did I persevere? It was so bad that not only I couldn't get any completion, I couldn't even maintain an erection. What a soul crunching, pelasureless ordeal this one was proving to be. Eventually we just stopped. It wasn't going anywhere. I was already too tired, too sad, too deep in regret. It was late, and we went back to bed. To sleep, that is. I closed my eyes and drifted away. The next morning was as if nothing had ever happened between us. And, oh, how I wish It never had. Me and Cris never ever talked about it again, but we maintained a cordial relationship. It's strange, because if in a way she might've realized that she was unlikely to ever what she wanted out of me, in another way all this nonsense actually made her believe even more that I'd eventually come to my senses. Because though we never spoke of the sex thing again, it doesn't mean she stopped trying to entice me. But I couldn't. I didn't want to. Not with her and not with anyone else. A while after this event Silvia told me that she was leaving the Netherlands, and coming home for a spell, but then she'd move to London and if I wanted I could go with her. We'd live there together. Just the two of us. But before we got there things almost completely fell apart.
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