justin was a drinking buddy of mine...
a fact that could have easily ruined my career, since he was still a teenager, but i didn't really think that much about it for some reason. he worked at the video store with tony and we knew each other for quite a while before anything happened between us other than talking and drinking.
he was a dirty punk rock boy...and, when i say dirty, i don't mean naughty, though he was a bit of that as well. he was tall and sort of messy and he had this crazy-deep voice that rattled a little in his throat. he smoked like a chimney and was prone to giving himself tattoos and showing up bleeding at our apartment, drinking 40s or whatever we were drinking.
the night that things changed between us was so random. he lived out in mckinleyville and i had gone out there to have dinner at jeri's house--the house i would end up living in the next year. justin came for dinner and we were just hanging out and then...i don't really know what happened, but something changed. he was sitting next to me on the couch and jeri went in the kitchen to wash dishes and suddenly his hand was running up and down my leg, under my skirt and his mouth that tasted of red wine and cigarettes was on my mouth, on my neck, at my ear, saying "oh god". we were both just taken over with this need to press ourselves into one another and when jeri came back into the room, we were all a little surprised, i think.
he said he had to go at that point and i walked him out to his car and we started kissing again and this time our hands were all over and our bodies were crushed together and, finally, i was up on the hood of my volvo with my legs around his hips, wanting to fuck him so bad that it was unreal, but i felt like that was not the appropriate place. (god knows why, considering all the shit that has gone down with jeri through the years...but i was suddenly emily post...)
finally he had to leave and i went in to sleep in the guest room, but i was too keyed up and i could sleep for hours--i kept hoping he would come back. my hip bones and my ginny felt all bruised and sore from grinding up against him and nothing i could do could get rid of that desire for this fairly unimpressive boy...
when we did have sex the next day or so, it was fine--we both enjoyed ourselves and we continued to do it for a couple of months, but nothing ever hit that level of excitement again...though, come to think of it, i remember having sex with justin outside, up against my chimney, with my mom in the livingroom, so i guess we did have some other wild times...but justin was never really my boyfriend or anything--he was stilll just a drinking buddy and we would hang out and drink and watch movies with tony and then go upstairs and fuck. nothing changed, much. then he went away to modesto for a couple of months and by the time he came back, i had met paul.
the first night the two of them met was funny, i thought. we were all drinking jagermeister and i think paul felt a little threatened or like he had to prove himself or something. anyway, by the end of the night, both boys were sick as dogs and justin kept saying over and over again "i really blew it, didn't i?" and that was the end of our affair, paul throwing up in the upstairs bathroom and justin puking in the back yard.
bachelor #7 broke my heart
bachelor #9 --what can i say?