Turnover

by v gatrod

Posted to Stories on 2001-08-07 15:10:00

Things change. They always do. Like my friends from the past. When we get together things are different. They’re like strangers almost. Sure I know everything about them and what they like but when you don’t get together everyday and share your emotions you lose that intimacy, that feeling of really knowing one another. I’m used to different people now. My past friends are used to different people now and different cities. We have different bases. When we visit we are both from the past.

I have new friends now; there is always a turnover in these things. They’re different from my friends from the past though. My friends from the past were mostly male. It was a bonding type of friendship, special and unique to my youth. My friendships now are more difficult. The men that I know and associate with everyday from work are boneheads. I do have some friends that are women though. Friendships with women can be complex. Linda is a woman I know. A while back…

We had a date for that evening, Linda and I. I was her boss. I felt wary, cool. She came by my apartment. She was wearing tight jeans, and a beige sweater with holes in it displaying her cleavage. The holes were part of the design. Her hair was down about her shoulders, she usually wore it pinned back. I always called her a blonde, but she always objected claiming that she wasn’t a blonde. In reality her hair color was a dark honey blonde. She wasn’t wearing her glasses either as she always did at work. I noticed the slight red marks at the sides of her nose, evidently she had just taken them off after driving. Her nose had a bump at the bridge as if it had been broken, I had always been too discreet to ask, hoping that she would volunteer that information as she had volunteered so much other info. With the hair billowing out to the side it made her brown eyes appear smaller. She was wearing a black leather jacket. It was early in the evening of a late summer day. As we walked from the parking lot to my apartment I couldn’t help but think that she looked like a biker chick with her low-cut sweater, black jacket, tight jeans and imperfect nose. In fact she used to date a biker and hang out. I was friendly and courteous as we walked up two flights of stairs to my apartment.

The nature of man is that of a selfish territorial beast. It’s easier for a man to be a friend with another man than to be a friend with a woman. Two men have the same basic instincts and can understand each other on that level. A woman is different. Women are more altruistic, less likely to kill someone. Men and women are different on this basic instinctual level and that makes it more difficult for them to relate to each other.

She let me massage her shoulders. We started wrestling around and she let me grab her breast. Linda was petite but she had a good build. Her muscles were not hard but she had surprising strength. We finished our beers and went to the movie. It was a horror flick with flesh melting and arms being ripped off bodies. I put my hand on her thigh then I got it in between her legs. Her crotch under the tight jeans was very firm. I rubbed furiously but could feel no heat or moisture generating. She stopped me when I tried to unsnap her jeans. She was very casual and friendly about it. She had had boyfriends before.
…(continued)

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