No evening of total indulgence and self-decadence would be complete without a healthy orgasm or two (or three). So, I’m upstairs doing my business, practicing my little heart out when I hear one of my neighbors shoveling their driveway or sidewalk. All thoughts of tall dark-haired men, spanking, and erotic naughtiness flew out of my head, and I immediately started to think about Nick.
Nick and I had two writing classes together at The Loft. One with Vodo and one with Dale. Nick wrote fucked up stories about monkeys and Turkish prisions and wizards or something like that. He liked to find symbolism everywhere, prompting Vodo to say, “Fuck symbolism, that’s just some bullshit high school teachers make up to torture you. Gatsby? The eyes mean nothing.”
Gotta love the Vodo.
One of the stories Nick wrote was about some college-aged kid who takes home one of his co-workers and spends the night and all the next day either have sex with her or trying to. It’s been a few years and my memory is a bit fuzzy.
Their day/night together happens to coincide with a snow storm that hits Minneapolis. Even though I can’t remember if the characters actually had sex. I do remember that the main guy masturbates twice, and each time he masturbates he listens to and watches a man shovel the sidewalk. I can’t remember if he found the sound erotic or if it was just a happy coincidence. They were vivid scenes. In the end the main guy leaves the girl’s house and runs into the shoveler. It was a pretty rad story.
So instead of coming to my own perverted little fantasies, I remembered a random kid’s story. It was different, but still satisfying. A very good way to end the year and start the new one.