Pussy-Lickin’ Good
Short Story
About two years ago, a long-lost classmate from high school added me as a friend on Facebook. This lady happened to be a friend I had immediately lost contact with following graduation. I was excited to hear from her for several reasons:
Lisa—as I shall call her, as I’m Dragnetting it and have changed her name to protect her innocence—was one of the closest people to me in high school. We did shows together, were in music together, and had a lot in common. She was sweet, pretty, and one of the most-liked people in school. I think she was also voted most likely to succeed or something senior year.
At one point, way before I could ever —pun intended—swallow the fact that I was gay, I dated a few girls. These were my early high school years when I was young and impressionable. I rarely even kissed them, and I knew even then that I had no sexual attraction to them, but guys were expected to date girls in my rural Missouri town. And if you didn’t, something was wrong with you.
Lisa was probably the best and coolest girl I dated. As I said, she was pretty without being super hot or overwhelmingly stunning, but sexy enough to make it even more enjoyable dating her and having her on my arm. She was always warm, funny, smart, and sweet. Who wouldn’t want to date or hang out with her?
I had a feeling back then that I was gay, but I still dated Lisa and even did a little sexual exploration with her, but certainly nothing to write home about. Mostly OTC action (over the clothes), kissing, and light petting because I wasn’t into it and respected her too much. She was kind of my best friend through all those years.
Somehow, Lisa and I quit talking after high school. Probably because I packed up and left for California two weeks after graduation. But also because our relationship had, years prior, devolved into a more meager friendship.
When I received the request on Facebook nearly ten years later, I was stoked. I had tried many times and had made many efforts to find her over the course of the decade but was never successful. Like the Delta Goodrem song “Out of the Blue,” ten years later and there she was—finding me and adding me to le Book of Face.
I immediately messaged her with pretty much an HGH (“hey girl, hey!!” ). And didn’t get any response. For two months. I knew that Facebook has its glitches, so I sent her a more timid message asking about her well-being and if she got my first message. No response. That was in 2009, and that year I had kind of a mentality: of “be my friend or fuck off.” So when she didn’t respond, I got pissed.
Yet Lisa and I had been such good friends in high school that I didn’t want to delete my connection to her. So I did nothing. Hell—so many months went by, I almost completely forgot that we were even Facebook connected at all.
I did wanna be her friend, yet contacting her directly a third time seemed a moot point. So many years after we graduated—what more did we really have in common? She had two wee-beastly lil’ children under the age of five and I’m a gay man livin’ it up in LALALAnd. Ten years is enough time to really lose touch. I heard that we even barely missed each other in when I lived in Sydney in 2004.
Flash forward to 2009 and a year into digitally reconnecting then not reconnecting with Lisa. I was surprised one day to receive a direct message from her on Facebook. I remember the morning I received the notification e-mail. I had woken up for the day and barely sat down with my coffee when I started my MacBook and opened my homepage.
There under my notifications was a message from Lisa that literally read something like this:
“Hey Friend-
So, I just wanted to say hi and hello. I hope you are well. It’s been years. By the way, I see that you are gay and all now, but I just want you to know that you are the best person that has ever eaten my pussy.
Lisa”
Somewhere a pin dropped in some rando’ warehouse. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. “You’re the best person that has ever eaten my pussy…”
What the fuck IS that?? Who writes that shit? What does that mean for me as a thirty-year-old gay man? That I’m good at rimming? What I do know is that is the single craziest message anyone has ever sent me. I wanted to be like:
“I know you are married with kids now, but that time I ate you out was so good you held onto it all this time?”
Or: “Why message me now?”
Or: “Are you insinuating that you know what made me gay?”
Or: “Damn, your husband must suck at giving head”
Or: “I haven’t heard from you in ten years, nor will I respond to any of your messages after I added you to FB, but you were great when you ate me out sophomore year!”
Truth be known, I hardly remember the night in question. I was so drunk the night I went down on her, that it was all a blur. I look at the crazy sex machine I am today—meaning how great I am at getting down currently—and shake my head. And I laugh. I’m so much more experienced and practiced now that I haven’t the foggiest as to how I ended up being good at going down on a girl. Or even so great that it was a memory a woman would cherish for a fraction of her adult life!
Modern civilization can go back and forth debating the validity of social media websites like the infamous Facebook. I, too, have personally gotten caught tweeting something nasty and Mean-Girlsy on my Twitter that was then linked to my Facebook. And it then exposed me for the underlying cunt I can truly be! So I know firsthand that social media can be used for good as well as evil. Kind of like the Star Wars-ian Force!
I’ve seen people get fired for their posts and secrets exposed on Facebook. I’ve seen, via the web, long-lost friends reunite and informative posts that changed my life, via the web. Just today, I saw my four-month-old little god-niece laugh for the first time via InstaVideo! It was so awesome! Yes, Facebook is a GD monster, but at the same time, it is a force to be reckoned with. There’s really nothing else like it. Like unicorns!
Nothing would have ever prepared me for the day that a former girlfriend would emerge out of the blue and message me to say how good I was at giving head (clam-digging goodness). So I’ve decided to be proud of this honor! I wear this badge of pride on my shoulders like Batman’s cape! I may be a good gay man. But apparently I’d make an excellent straight man, too!
Well, maybe not excellent. But at least pussy-lickin’ good!
more by KOELEN ANDREWS
photograph by Luis Llerena
