She’s on top of me, straddled, nude and grinding. Except of heavy breathing she likes to fuck silently and this is our third time in two weeks. Her hand presses down on my chest, then moves to my abs. My left hand is on her ass guiding her movement my right hand is on her left breast. Our sex is about admiration and vanity and our hands move among one another like two blind sculptures who see with our hands. She comes softly, whispering yes in Portuguese in my ear. I roll her off of me and and pull one leg over the other, flipping her with one hand so she’s on her stomach laying flat so I can finish from behind. I’m still getting used to being sober during sex and I have trouble coming and looking at her in the face.

After we’re done she kisses the right side of my chest, then my cheek and finally exhales softly. She scoots down shrinking her 5?11 frame. She has a way of making herself smaller or disappearing when she wants. Shy. In the dark I can see her green and brown eyes looking up at me. Except for our breathing there is a silence until she says, “Are we dating” The way she asks, timid and scared I know she’s not talking about dating the way you and I think of dating, movies, dinners, hanging out for a couple of months until both parties decide to be exclusive or get sick of each others company. B girls don’t need that long to decide if they want you as a boyfriend. So I do what any guy does in a situation like this to buy himself more time, I answer her question with a question, “Do you want to be dating”

She let’s a out a heavy sigh with South American annoyance. I quietly weigh my options. This girl doesn’t know anything about me, she doesn’t know about the drinking, the cops, and she sure as hell doesn’t know about the other women. In a couple of weeks we’ll have our first fight and she’ll cry because they all do and she’ll confess that it’s hard for her to be in my world at night out with my friends and their girls. She has hard time being in large groups her mind is still trying to translate the conversations and it’s hard for her to get all the jokes and pop culture references, and the other American girls are shallow and young and only talk about shopping or some show called Jersey Shore and she still doesn’t get what A guido is. And another night some guy will try to pick her up at a bar in front of me and I’ll have to threaten him with bodily harm and she’ll be a little scared but hold on to me tighter when we leave.

But right now I’m tired and the weight of trying to figure out all the possible outcomes to this situation is heavy. But I feel it all around me, I read it in letters between my best friend, I see it in the eyes of my boys when we go out to clubs, a longing for something stable, a need for rest, an anchor. And there’s something about this girl laying next to me. An ease that comes with everything she does. Her idea of a fun is playing Wii with a married couple and their friends on a Saturday night. She doesn’t need to be at clubs and when she does go out she prefers to just drink a couple of Miller lights. She doesn’t have to be the center of attention and doesn’t look around to see who else is in the room. She goes to Church every Sunday and has to talk to her mother twice a week. To sum it all up, she’s a good girl, a rare breed. Her baggage is so light it’s a carry on. She reminds you of an ex, there is a softness to her. Maybe this would be a good time to tell her I suck at this, relationships, monogamy. “These things take forever, I especially am slow” Oberst In these beds we share with strangers what have we been looking for in our mistresses? Sometimes an accomplice most of the time an enabler and on rare occasions when you’ve fucked enough and had you’re fill, a savior, a balance. You’ll come to this point, tired, broken in need of mend. And with long limbs wrapped around yours, her breath on your chest and the darkness between the both of you. Look down, kiss her on the forehead and whisper….. “Yes, we’re dating”