Thursday, March 04, 2010

Coitus Interruptus (Err...me.)

I’m sitting on the hood of a car. It’s boxy, like a Cadillac. My hair is loose and wavy around my shoulders and I’m wearing a light blue, calf length dress that buttons all the way down the front. It’s made of a thin material that billows in the slight breeze and the top few buttons are undone, the material gapped to expose the lacy edges of my bra. I’m leaning back on my elbows, bare feet propped on the grill and legs slightly open so that the dress pools in a V between my thighs.

He walks toward me across the full parking lot, smiling in anticipation. I smile back. We both know what happens next.

Stopping in front of me he slides his hands over my knees and up my thighs. The dress rides up his wrists, stopping with his hands at my hips. He pulls hard and we’re suddenly against each other. Lips brush my ear, my neck, my collarbone. One hand grabs my hair and pulls while the other gathers the back of my dress in a tight fist. He bites the top of one breast and I grab him and pull his lips to mine.

As we kiss his hands fumble with the button on his pants. I pull away and lean back to allow him time. We stare at each other while he pulls down the zipper. He smiles, opens his mouth and says,

“MAMA! I WANT COFFEE!”

I tilt my head in confusion, hearing but not really understanding. “Hmmm”, I say.

He opens his mouth again and says, “MAMAAAAAA! I. SAID. MAKE. ME. SOME.COFFEE!”

His form wavers in front of my eyes before completely dissipating into darkness. I hear an insistent tap, tap, tapping near my head. Light starts to seep around the black edges as my eyes flutter open. I squint, my dry contacts rejecting any attempt to open my lids further.

The kid is standing by my bed in her pale green Tinkerbell pajamas. Her hair is stuck to one side of her face and she’s peering at me in irritation. “Mom! I need you to turn on the TV and make my coffee.” She taps the bedside table with her plastic Tinkerbell wand, emphasizing each word. She presses a button on the handle and it makes a “brrrrrriiiiing” noise, giving off a feeble flicker of light in its clear, star shaped tip. The batteries are almost dead, thank gawd. So much for getting laid, I think as I force myself up and out of the bed. Interrupted.

*******

Alone time is not something I take for granted. Alone time means sex – whether it’s with myself, just a dream, or, miracle of miracles, with another person.

As most of you know, I moved back in with my family when I had my daughter almost five years ago. That means that at any given time there are four other people, two cats, and a dog always encroaching on “me time”. When I was seeing the fireman, and by seeing I mean banging, it wasn’t really an issue. For about four years I would stay over at his place, have marathon sex, then go home and bask in a few days of post coital bliss. Rinse and repeat.

However, now that I’m not seeing anyone, and by seeing I mean banging, things are a bit more stressful. And when things are stressful and there are no sexy time opportunities on the horizon, my hand and/or ‘piece de resistance’ and I become infinitely more acquainted.

There was a time when I would never admit that to anyone, stranger or best of friends. Masturbation was a dirty, dirty word and if people knew you were doing it they would make an “ew” face and act like they’d never once tried it themselves. Liars! Hypocrites! Baptists!

Anyway, so now that I’m on a penis sabbatical I’m all about the (whisper) masturbation, dirty dreams that won’t fucking quit, and sometimes the phone sex. This is fine. It doesn’t really bother me. Except for one thing...

Bitches are always interrupting my groove!

Take the intro to this post as the first example. If I had a nickel for every time in the past few months that someone (mainly the kid) has interrupted my dreaming at an inopportune time, I could pay a hit man to put me out of my misery.

My family doesn’t understand the meaning of the word “privacy”. If my door is shut, they bang on it and fire questions like missiles, or worse, just walk right in. If I’m in the shower, they pry the locked door open and sit down to chat. If I’m on the phone, there’s another onslaught of questions: “Who is that, what are you talking about, are you going to be on the phone all night, are you sleeping with him, what’s his name, is it a girl, are you a lesbian, how much motherfucking wood could a woodchuck chuck before you went ape shit and stabbed us to death? Huh, Al? Huh, huh?!”

It’s like they’re all conspiring against me, plotting to keep me and myself apart.

The other week I stayed home sick. Alone on the couch, I decided to pop in one of my favorite movies: Unfaithful. Diane Lane getting raunchy with Oliver Martinez never fails to make me hot.

When my favorite sex scene came on I was sitting cross legged on the couch, leaning forward and clutching my pillow, ready for it. I bit my lip and happily watched while he nailed her in the public bathroom stall, glad that I didn’t have to look like I wasn’t very interested. Had anyone else been home, I would have smoothed my face into one of relaxed disinterest.

I clutched the pillow harder, wiggling with excitement. Suddenly there was a loud TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP by my head. I whipped around to see my little cousin standing in the window right behind the couch. He gave me a big thumbs up and pointed to the door, signaling me to let him in.

And come in he did...and he stayed for two hours, yapping my ear off about stupid teenage girls. By that time my sister had made it home with the kid. Sigh. No getting off that afternoon. Interrupted.

The most recent incident was just last night.

After work I had a few errands to run on the opposite side of town so mom agreed to pick up the kid. I got home around 5, settled on the couch and started watching a movie.

Around 6:45 or so, I realized I hadn’t heard from anyone. I called my sister and it turns out all of them decided to go out to dinner and they were just sitting down to eat. I was ecstatic. Having the house to myself is a luxury.

I happened to be texting my friend when I found out about their delayed arrival. When he asked what I planned to do, I invited him to join me for the phone sex. The first time that late night whispering wasn’t necessary.

It took a bit of time and playful banter before we got down to the business at hand. Sometimes he can be a bit shy.

I’d guess maybe 10 minutes had gone by and things were at that point. You know, eyes rolling back in the head, legs jerking kind of point. By request I was in a...precarious position, when three sets of car lights flashed across my darkened bedroom window. FLASH FLASH FLASH.

“Oh gawd!”

He made a noise of agreement.

“Shit!” I tried to get off the bed, but somehow ended up tangled in a sheet and toppling to the floor. The phone went across the room and I jumped up, trying to pull on my pajama pants. Car doors slammed and I panicked, trying to stick both feet in the same pant leg and falling over again in the process. I managed to flick my light on and yank my pants into place right as the front door opened and my mom’s boyfriend walked in. (My bedroom door is right by the front door.) Interrupted.

He looked at me, the expression on his face clearly saying, “What the hell are you up to?”

My shirt and pants were twisted, my ponytail halfway falling down, and my eyes squinty due to going from semi-darkness to bright ass interrogation lights. I immediately looked down at my phone to avoid confrontation and went directly to the bathroom.

After dumping contact solution in my eyes and straightening myself, I walked back out. The rest of them were coming in the door when my phone rang. I answered, told him to hold on, and said hello to everyone. Then I went outside to explain.

Lighting a cigarette, I told him what happened, unable to keep from laughing. “Did you get off”, he asked.

“Yes”, I said, but I tried to explain that it hadn’t exactly been ideal because at the moment of euphoria, I was toppling off a 5 ft. high bed, terrified that my mom’s boyfriend would find me with my bare ass in the air. He laughed at my relayed antics, but I still detected a note of bitterness there because I finished and he didn’t. Poor thing.

“Maybe I can do it while you talk normally...about the weather or something”, he said.

I laughed. “Yeah. I could talk about big, fluffy, sexy, white clouds.”

He laughed too, thank goodness, and I promised to call him back later.

When I walked back in the house mom was standing at the kitchen counter in her short, hot pink nightgown with big black stars all over it, glaring. “What are you doing”, she asked.

I gave her my practiced look of relaxed disinterest. “Nothing”, I said innocently.

Her eyes narrowed further. “Humph”, she said as I walked away. Always suspicious, she’s the Masturbatory Gestapo. I can picture her in a suit made of bubble wrap, clutching a bottle of disinfectant and muttering, “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, I’ma catch a bitch with her pants on the ground...”

So...I’ve been looking for my own place for a few weeks now. I’m working hard so I can (hopefully) move out by the fall. Fingers crossed. Because this shit has got to stop.

42 comments:

The Vegetable Assassin said...

At least you were in a position (heh!) to see the lights and notice their arrival otherwise it could have been SO MUCH WORSE. In fact, I don't think my imagination can cope with that scenario. :)

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

Oh my God, Aly. If you hadn't seen the headlights and they had walked in and heard you talking dirty and moaning, then you walked out by yourself? My worst nightmare. It used to be my dad catching me having oral sex, but he died, thank God, so I don't have to worry about that one anymore. I mean...he died, God rest his soul.

Sally-Sal said...

Liars! Hypocrites! Baptists!

True that.

I missed your writing, you tell a fucking fantastic story, and you make me laugh, you make me shake my fist angrily, and you make me feel.

That, my dear, is why you are such a kickass writer.

Sara said...

I know the face of disinterest well. I even have to use it during American Pie...

Mama's Girl Alexis said...

OMG, OMG , OMG and OMG! I am shaking all over at my desk! Yes, good luck on getting your own place really really soon! I am still laughing, I know what you are going through, I am in that sitaution right now without privacy but not for much longer. I am also looking for my own place.... Good Luck to you : )

Tony said...

My face of disinterest is looking away from the screen. Oh, the one of the few downfalls of being engaged.

You know what's fun though? Skype. We used it a couple of times, and that resulted in us giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.

Sorry about the lack of sex. Man...no sex is like being chained to a pole in the desert with a gigantic bucket of water in front of you.

Jenny DB said...

mwaahaha oh dear this is so amazingly awkward and wonderful

Philip said...

That is brilliant. You need to get a space of your own. In the meantime continue to write fantastically about how you haven't.
Philip

mo.stoneskin said...

*tries look of disinterest*

Blimey, I'll have to practice this look, it's harder than I thought.

Privacy is something that some families get and some don't. I'd kinda like to send all those that don't get it to a tiny island somewhere.

MJenks said...

If you keep your fingers crossed, you won't be able to...never mind.

I have these issues, too. I relish the few hours of alone time I get on Saturday evenings when the children are in bed and my wife is at work and I can just sit there naked if I wanted.

And, my wife is the fucking gestapo, too. Whenever I'm trying to take a nap and I need that little extra something to push me over into sleepy, sleepy land, she always walks in and interrupts. Inevitably followed by the children.

Now that's fucking awkward.

Baglady said...

If I were a LOL'er I would LOL. I love it, you poor lass!

Good luck in your search. And in the meantime maybe wedge something against your bedroom door?

Eric said...

A V between the whaa??

Ah, sweet privacy, I can't imagine having all those people around opening your doors and stuff. Well, I guess it was kind of like that in college.

Miss Yvonne said...

Try getting caught masturbating by your mom when you're a teenager and then having to listen to your sister who is 10 years older than you lecture you about how dirty and wrong it is to do that and when she was your age she had to go to the doctor because she did it so much she got an infection.

That shit will scar you for life.

Bethany said...

oh poor girl.
no masturbation privacy is hell.
you are a genius writer.

miss. chief said...

If you find a place to yourself you are going to appreciate it SO MUCH!

The mad woman behind the blog said...

Have you tried in the car, driving across town? Just be sure to finish before you get to your neighborhood. Just keep a vibrator in your purse.

Not that I speak from experience. Hiccup.

Maryx said...

Oh My Gawd?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
I'm speechless. You poor thing.

Secretia said...

It might be worth it to stay living there if the price is right. "Unfaithful" is one of ny favorite movies-Diane Lane at her best.

Secretia

Organic Meatbag said...

You and masturbation just apparently were never meant to be together... the worst for me was being 15 or 16 and getting caught once by my brother while I was slapping my meat puppet around...but again, I was like 15...you are like in your mid 20's right? Aye... awkward!

sAm said...

Hehe...glad to hear I'm not the only one finding time for myself.

JUST ME said...

You NEED "me" time, girl. Or should I say, "masturbation" time. It's essential. Like an apple. Every day.

The Kid In The Front Row said...

Every time I come back here, you post more and more about sex. Not that I'm complaining, it's just that you could at least stop occasionally, for meals; or something.

I would write about sex, but would run out of things to say after about a paragraph. For me, it's something you either do, or don't do much; it is what it is, but it'd never cross my mind to blog much about it, i'm more likely to blog about sandwiches.

Then again, the way I feel about sex blogging is probably how you feel about film blogging ;)

cool that you're still blogging about the fireman dude too, after all these years; i remember him.

anyways, nearly 2am, need sleeeeep.

otherworldlyone said...

Kid - Maybe if you stopped by more often you'd find something different.

Mr London Street said...

I would be more likely to read Alyson blogging about sandwiches than the Kid blogging about sex.

I think your blog has a lot more range than that.

Melissa Leah said...

Interruptions do suck....and I hope that the apartment search goes well.

mylittlebecky said...

they say i'm an introvert but i think that just means i need time alone to masturbate regularly.

ps the kid? please don't discourage aly, just because you're not having teh sex doesn't mean other people shouldn't talk about it... coughbabptistcough

Mr London Street said...

I guess if he'd been getting any action the blog would have been called The Kid In The Back Row... With A Slut.

NWO said...

Gawd you are funny. Thanks for the wonderful laughs!

Just.Kate said...

"I can picture her in a suit made of bubble wrap, clutching a bottle of disinfectant and muttering, “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, I’ma catch a bitch with her pants on the ground...”"

Can't. Stop. Laughing.

Mladen said...

This is awesome!

I read this with a facial expression of a kid waiting for the cartoon to finally start. I tried not to blink too often. And then I got to the 'Gestapo' part.

My cheeks hurt.

with cherry on the freakin' top said...

Your sex stories makes me laugh.

Pain released said...

wow never caught in those predicuments but other stuff similar.....

The Lissst! said...

Fucking great! Really!

Acorsi said...

OMG what a great story about the hot guy and mama a want coffee I was just swept away...CLASSIC

jmmartin0287 said...

I have only read TWO of your blogs and my STOMACH hurts, I have not stopped laughing...this will DEF be a daily read LMAO!

See Kate run. said...

Ever since I read this blog your Masturbation Gestapo mother has taken up residence in my head. I will be in a boring meeting and suddenly, "Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, Ima catch a bitch..." will pop into my head and I'll bark-laugh in the middle of the droning presentation like a crazy person.

It's almost been a year. The funny still has not worn off.

mymisfortunes said...

I just found your blog and have been reading them over the last hour instead of working! You are insanely funny! Good Job!

Karen said...

I have unfortunately had to deal with this problem on occasion. I finally have my own place and blast porn on occasion just because I can. My mom still doesn't understand why I had to move out...

Shannon said...

This is amazing! I can only hope my blog becomes this good! Your honesty is hilarious!

Taylor said...

My mother's boyfriend doesn't work so he's home ALL DAY -_- So when I go to take a shower I lock every door between the bathroom and the rest of the house.

masterkyle said...

Nice writing skills you have there

masterkyle said...

Nice writing skills you have there