THE ONE NIGHT STAND
He seemed interesting on paper – a photographer who had traveled the world – it sounded like he would have lots of interesting stories to tell. At first I flirted and put on the moves, fluttering my eyelashes, playing with my hair, the usual bullshit ingrained in the female genome. But it soon became clear he was only interested in the sound of his own voice – he must have forgotten that he company.I became bored and miraculously he noticed – so mid-yawn, he suggests I take him home. I shrugged my shoulders and nodded. I was ready for bed, with or without company. The poor bastard decided to finally pay me attention, which I was happy to receive. He worked so hard to keep me interested, alas only for his penis to fail him at the most crucial moment. Small and soft, he shook his head in embarrassment. I rolled over, told him where the nearest train station was, and fell asleep.
Written by: thoughts-by-an-unknown