As I was leaving, we were at the doorway still talking. I saw the time was 6:11- 06:11. I saw my birthday in the numbers as it is 6/11, as June 11th, and smiled, telling her so.
Standing in the doorway, now stepping onto the porch, I turned around, still talking to her, and saw things on the wall opposite the entrance-- The name "Mike" written, I see first, designed on the wall, next/surrounded by what looked like birds. At first I thought they were life sized figures of vultures, or stuffed vulture-like birds. One was a bald eagle. Perhaps representation, the eagle was, but I don't know what the others even were.
She bled during sex, just starting her period. This is the second time this has happened for me, in life. Once I was with a girl- in a relationship, and she knew already she was on her period, so I don't count that. The first time was after that relationship, one day after we broke up- or one day after I last saw her, when a girl named Tara came and visited, having learned I was single. It was Labor Day, I think, when it occurred with her.
Jamie had advertised her body for sex/companionship, online- how I met her. This is the first time that I did this in awhile, relative to how much I want to have sex. This is the first time I went through with it in awhile, to pay for it. I'm usually regretful. I would usually wish I had the money back, for something else. This time, it's okay. She was friendly, and interesting, and attractive. She was genuine, as far as I could tell... Not that it wasn't a business transaction, but she expressed interest in seeing me outside of business, as friends, smoking marijuana, and perhaps tripping, as she mentioned she really likes acid. And DMT- when I mentioned that.
I was sweet with her, as well. I called her beautiful, because I felt so. I liked her freckles all over her body. The shape of her body was tight, and really rather impressive. I felt naturally with her. And she seemed to like me. She came, or said she did, asking if I did/thinking I did. I felt better, as I was slightly rusty. She didn't overtly fake anything. She didn't scream. I didn't even know she was really that into it, to come, although she was very tense, her mouth open, smiling, and receptive to my touch. She seemed to like her legs all the way up on my shoulders- her calves on my chest/shoulders- a position that my ex felt too much pain in, but I liked. I imagine this might give her certain sensation more. Not sure. I like it.
I came, after noticing the blood, I didn't mind it/ I decided to give into it. At this point I had turned her over, to gain leverage, and ride her. There was a roughness, but still a gentleness, and rhythm, that I hadn't fallen into since the last time I had non-paid sex, with a girl with the last name Hart, that was over a year ago. I like her skin. I accepted her. I wanted to touch her. I didn't see a disgusting prostitute that had just fucked 9 guys in a day, like was possible. I didn't care about that. I saw a human, who I was attracted to, and who deserved my love, like anyone does... though some, like her, are easier to feel it for.
As I finished, I stayed inside of her, finishing reading the tattoos on her back. She was in no rush to separate. I rubbed her back some, and then smacked her right cheek playfully, gently, once, and began to separate slowly, still touching her. The tattoos- one of them was in honor of someone who died. I began to process this while having sex with her. 2008-2012. I put it together that she might have lost a child recently, so felt some sensitivity. The other, on the other shoulder-blade- the right, "God, grant me courage to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference". On her lower spine was a heart, I think, of sorts, if I recall correctly.
When I asked about her tattoos, afterwards, she told me about how her children had died just last year, or a little over a year ago, in 2012. 10 year old boy, and 5 year old daughter. Car crash. She had one tattoo on her left leg, of an angel- what looked like a cherub- the kind depicted with the child's face. To one side was one name of one child, and the other side, the other. I gave condolences. It was somewhat shocking, and made me feel deeper for her, than the connection I already felt.
So many girls I am attracted to lately have abuse in their lives. Beautiful girls. Sweet. Abused. It makes me wish I had the wings to wrap around them, to give them protection, and love, and strength of wholesomeness. Arms big enough to hold them. To let them stand on their own, and be positive in life. But I guess God uses us all. Just not how we think.
She said the only thing that seems to help her is going to church, which I found strange in one second, hearing from a girl who had just accepted money in exchange for physical services such as this, but really, how I really feel, is that that's just the stigma. Sex... Is really no different than massage therapy, in ways. The only thing that makes it different, as in potentially bad, is the diseases that can be transmitted, and unwanted pregnancy (or, wanted)... And humans are just fearful, which is understandable, given the potential consequences. We developed plotting out causes and effects. It's natural that we have certain reservations, and even that we form really extreme views about ourselves.
But I continued to touch her, as we were getting dressed. I hugged her. I rubbed her chest, standing face to face, as she had a small cough, and expressed some worry of what it was. She's a smoker. She accepted/wanted my touch. And she did something I have never had a girl do, in memory, as I sat still. I think it was before what I just mentioned. She tried to pop what she thought was a pimple, on my shoulder. I've had a red blemish develop. She thought it might be an ingrown hair, after being unsuccessful. Her love, and making me feel comfortable with the grossest parts of me, made me feel accepted.
When you're out of a relationship for so long, you forget these things. She showed me more acceptance than any girl I have slept with, so far. Maybe I didn't let them, but I can't imagine them being totally weird and going to pop my pimples... Not that I have them really so much anymore, nor did I ever have much issue, luckily, but still.
She used to work at the hospital near me- St. Vincent's. Medical billing. But she got fired after her children died, and she just found it hard to go to work enough to be worth it to them. She said they did try to work with her, but that she understood why they let her go.
This girl spoke with more compassion and understanding for others than most people I know. She was sweet natured, and loving. Maybe she just takes her job seriously, one might say, but my instinct says she is genuinely this person. She loves people. Not that she "falls" in love.
I started to sort of offer her a job- the job I have. Not to take it, but that she could also work there... She sounded interested, but she has a DUI from 7 years or so ago, that will probably bar her from being qualified. But my driver manager has a prior felony, and he drove, so I am considering asking him if he has a place for her. We are a medical courier company, mainly, though we handle anything. She's just finding it hard to find work, as the DUI is a felony. I didn't ask why it was a felony.
But we're going to hang out, sometime-- Or she wants to. I treated her right. She was loving, back. Not that I... Think the way to go is for her to be my girlfriend. But not that I am closed off.
She has red hair. Though dyed blonde. I couldn't tell from her pictures. But her complexion gave it away.
When I left, I noticed I had been sent an email by my car dealership, telling me my 21 month service was due. Andrew Hart sent the message, and it came as I was on my way to see her. The last time I enjoyed sex was with Whitney Hart. A few ways at least, this resonated, to receive this message at this time. She bled. She touched me, and I was touched, emotionally. And it didn't feel fake. I put my hands over her heart, rubbing her chest, and on her neckless was a heart of sorts, made of a silver-like band of material forged in the shape of one, and as I came, I'm pretty sure I looked at a heart on her back, or at least, that was the closest image to see, if that's what it was. Of course, though, it's Hart, not Heart. But it resonates. With Whitney Hart, she's the last time I had consensual, non-paid sex. I had also been suffering from what felt like heart- chest pain, for the week prior to meeting her, and sex with her eased my tensions. Another resonance would be, I went to the hospital one year after I met a girl who I was touched by, but who the relationship with fizzled with, for what I thought was a heart attack. Elephant sitting on my chest. One year after, at work, I took an order to a "HART", as the first, and last order of the day- which may have been the only time I only took one order, when I think. And the next year, my grandmother died, and I was suffering from arrhythmia around the time, and severe chest pains, from a food sensitivity- the same reason the first time I went to the hospital thinking I had had an attack. But, it's more involved, as if you have read what I have written in this blog, and elsewhere, and been able to receive it- been open to it, you already expect as much.
Mike, the mechanic-el.
