I Need Sexual Healing
The World According To Kiki & J-Fed
I was at the pool with Kuku and my oldest and dearest friend, Mika, when I let them in on the fact the Fedster had been trying to untie my bathing suit that very afternoon. While that might be considered foreplay by most people, I knew better.
"Was he trying to get some?" Mika asked incredulously.
“Oh, he was trying to get some alright… some pot roast.” You see if J-Fed was cozying up to me, it was because he wanted something, and that something WASN’T sex.
Mika and Kuku were on the floor laughing. They knew I wasn’t exaggerating, especially after I explained that J-Fed had tried to convince me to trade him sex for go carts. Hell would freeze over before I’d ever pay J-Fed a red cent for some raw sex. That’s not to say I hadn’t been trying to get some.
Since J-Fed had moved out I’d tried every trick in the book to try and get him in bed. About the only thing I hadn’t tried was getting him drunk – and I’d only ruled that one out because I was afraid he might pee on the furniture.
No, I haven’t lost my mind. But I find it insulting that he’s turned down my advances. At first, I thought there was another woman in the picture. As heartbreaking as it may have been, I told J-Fed just to be up front with me. He swore up and down, left and right that there was nobody else.
Finally I exploded, demanding an answer, “WHY WON’T YOU HAVE SEX WITH ME?”
“Because I don’t have to,” he replied in short.
Bastard. This was a complete irony -- we’d traded places. I wanted sex because I couldn’t get it, and he wouldn’t give me sex because I wanted it so desperately. It was a power struggle that J-Fed had no intention of losing.
