Simple Truths of Life

But I remember exactly how right after her comparison of sex with sport, I asked her: “But what about love?”. Natasha told me that she had love once, but she became disappointed with it after her ex-boyfriend chased her with a knife.

I thought then about telling her about the real purpose of my visit, but different thoughts ran through my mind. One of them was that a few months ago I was looking at photos of a naked girl, and on that page people could leave comments. One of those comments spoke of that girl’s “busted pussy,” referring to her large labia. Unfortunately, at that time I did not check such “teachings” in verified sources of knowledge, and therefore I put it in my head that such large labia meant that the girl had a lot of rough sex, which is why they began to have such dimensions. The fact is that one of Natasha’s inner lips was two centimeters long, which had a certain weight in my following decision.

As soon as I decided to finally tell her the truth and was about to say the first words, she suggested that we have sex for the second time and she began to touch me in the southern latitudes, arousing me.

I am not sure if my first and last cunnilingus was worth the untold truth – no, of course not. During our intercourse, she rushed me, looking at the door and saying something about time.

We finished, and I thought to tell her again, but if before she was very nice and amiable with me, then she just walked coolly to the window while I was dressing up.

While Natasha had her back turned to me, my brain, oversaturated with almost ideal forms of female bodies from porn sites, could not hide the thought that the shape of Natasha"s bottom was not to my liking.

Then I once again made a fatal mistake, deciding to fix in my head the fact that she herself made her choice, given that she had a father in Podmoskovye and could just go to him. This was the second time that I consciously blocked my feelings for another person, putting in my own mind a block in the form of an idea – in this case about Natasha’s choice. When I was creating the metal block, I remembered that I regretted that I had once in the same way blocked the other girl mentioned earlier in the tenth grade – even if in the end those fantasies actually turned out to be comparable with the truth, since that school girl slept with a lot of guys from our class —they boasted about that. But I wanted so much to go to the USA that I could not allow the feeling of love to continue to live in me – and it immediately was gone.

Almost immediately it became clear that it was naive to think that the loss of virginity would ease my desire for sex. I wanted sex even more. “Fortunately”, I knew what to do.

This next Stalinist house in the south-west of Moscow, if I remember correctly, was near the metro, and I did not have to walk for too long.

The door of the apartment was opened by a young woman of about thirty years. She was a pretty blonde with good shapes – which compensated for the fact that she could not be the girl in the photo, because of whom I came there.

When I spoke to her, while still in the corridor, her smiling face was visited by obvious shock, if not horror. I did not understand what was happening – such things had happened before – for example, when I was with Natasha, she clearly noticed something in my face during our conversation, and then there was that strange case when I was going to Moscow by train a couple of weeks ago, and a young woman sat in front of me looking at me for a couple of moments, and then she sharply and quickly ran out of the car, turning her head to look at me when she was already at the doors. Then I thought that this was due to the fact that I was attracted to the nipples of her small breasts, which were clearly visible through her unusual white blouse with numerous small cutouts – I saw something like that worn by Abby Martin when she spoke with Peter Joseph about capitalism – but then I almost immediately stopped looking in that area and redirected my eyes to the window, only occasionally looking into the eyes of that pretty woman…

Perhaps I relaxed, and the prostitute invited me in. There were no choices this time, since she was alone.

During the break for the second time, she asked me if I could give the battery of my phone so that she could call her child from her phone of the same brand. I do not remember whether we talked about something with her or not. What I remember very well is how in the depths of my mind the thought of Natasha was trying to form, but my mental block worked so perfectly back then…

The second time, she moved as fast as during the first, which again led to my quick orgasm, despite the fact that with her, unlike with Natasha, I could hardly feel any pressure with my sex organ. At that time, sex no longer seemed nicer than masturbation, as I could barely feel anything.

I quickly washed and dressed. When I left, she politely and from a pure heart gave me advice to be more courageous, showing her small female muscles with her hands. Then it became completely incomprehensible to me – what did other people see in me?

Having returned home poorer by two thousand rubles, I decided to record myself on the camera of my phone in order to try to find the answer to my question. I was just saying out loud a sentence. When I watched that video on the computer – I was shocked! Everything fell into place – my friend who called me a moron, two statements in the military enlistment office, strange looks and whispers of my village friends, the woman running out in the train, Natasha averting her eyes and the bewilderment of the last prostitute – it all made sense now.

The reason was that because of my habit of talking to myself in my imagination – what I got used to shortly after I began to actively fantasize in the ninth grade – the muscles of my face, and the whole body, were tense, which affected the facial expressions and the general expression on my face, making them distorted – just like in that dream that I recently had.

Yes – even though I was able to completely remove all thoughts and fantasies on the day I learned the truth about stuttering – I did not notice at all how I began to smoothly misuse my imagination again almost during every second of my life… such is the strength of habits… and if in the case of alcohol and smoking you clearly see the moment when you start drinking and smoking, here things are not so obvious… but usually only when you are not completely here and now.

At that moment, when I first saw my distorted face, I seemed to think of myself with the very word that my village friend called me – and this terrified me very much, because since I was that person, I could not remain indifferent about this, as, for example, people who call others names – those who have some problems. Maybe later you will understand the possible reason why I had to go through this experience in my life.

That day, remembering absolutely clearly the consequences of my habit of talking to myself in my head, I was completely in the present with a pure consciousness and ease in the body which muscles could finally relax and rest – only the “processing” of data coming from my five senses and nothing more.