Sex with Supers: Telepatheic Aftertaste
You bring anyone into your home for a one-night-stand, and no matter what a good neat guest they are, your home will not be the same afterwards, the sheets and showers smell different, just a hint enough to raise your eyebrows when you are alone again, like finding that your cookie jar wasn't in the exact position you've left it in.
You bring a telepath home, and the next morning, you wake up with country music in your head, because that's what he's been playing as his internal (but fucking broadcasting) soundtrack when he was getting dressed after you've fallen asleep. It's not even country music by that sexy Canadian in the leopard print hoodie or cool Outlaw Country like Willie Nelson, it's a male and female duo singing about being at a motel of no-tell (is this what he thinks my apartment fucking looks like, the Jackalope is a homesy conversation piece!), haven't slept in something something-damn days.
The STD awareness commercial line about sleeping with everyone your sack buddy has already slept with takes on a new meaning. Saturday after, when you decided to try out a new bar west of town, you run into this sorta cute but horrifically dorky, jedi-braid wearing, college kid, that you have never met before, but suddenly, both of you avert your gazes and turned the other way, like you were the pair who did it and don't want to talk about it again.
You bring a telepath home, and the next morning, you wake up with country music in your head, because that's what he's been playing as his internal (but fucking broadcasting) soundtrack when he was getting dressed after you've fallen asleep. It's not even country music by that sexy Canadian in the leopard print hoodie or cool Outlaw Country like Willie Nelson, it's a male and female duo singing about being at a motel of no-tell (is this what he thinks my apartment fucking looks like, the Jackalope is a homesy conversation piece!), haven't slept in something something-damn days.
The STD awareness commercial line about sleeping with everyone your sack buddy has already slept with takes on a new meaning. Saturday after, when you decided to try out a new bar west of town, you run into this sorta cute but horrifically dorky, jedi-braid wearing, college kid, that you have never met before, but suddenly, both of you avert your gazes and turned the other way, like you were the pair who did it and don't want to talk about it again.