Divorcing Myself from Myself Ch. 03

Note: This story is part of a small volume of stories that I have posted here previously. They will appear with different names as chapters (10 in all). I think these stories stand alone well, but they are meant to be read as part of a larger work entitled "Divorcing Myself From Myself."

This chapter,
, is called "Dawn." It was posted here previously as "Sex in the Bar."

Thank you in advance for checking this out, and I'm looking forward to hearing what you all think.

Jim

Dawn

Early one morning after a long night of drunken lasciviousness, we have a conversation about Dawn. Susie snuggles up against me and curls up even more closely as daybreak brings the first glimmers of dirgy, melancholy, drizzly Seattle light into the room as the clock moves past 7 am. I've been awake for about an hour now, for the most part, even though we didn't get to bed until just a few hours earlier, and my head just pounds. Even with the lack of sleep, it's keeping me awake, and I've been spending the past several minutes comparing and contrasting the five or six hanging chips of paint across the ceiling. "Blue Flower" by Mazzy Star comes on the stereo again, and I realize that the tape deck was left on auto repeat, because I've heard this song three or four times already in my various stages of alpha sleep, and the tape is going to keep playing and playing until one of us gets out of bed to shut it off. That isn't likely given our lack of motivation, but I really don't mind, because I really like this song. It grows on me each time I hear it, and one line keeps jumping out at me:

Your boots are high-hilled and are shinin' bright

Aside from the blue hair, piercings, and tattoos, her favorite accouterment is a pair of black boots lying on the floor amidst empty beer bottles next to the stereo which are shiny and spikey heeled, which contribute to her commanding presence more than anything else. But as I roll over and cradle her, I see through the badass exterior to her tender blue eyes as they open for the first time. She stretches and rolls back and kisses me.

"Hey," her gravely voice manages with a smile. She kisses me long, wet, and deep.

"How do you feel?" I respond.

"Pretty good, I guess," she says through the remnants of her intoxication.

We settle into a spoon and lie there luxuriously for a moment, meditating in the sounds of traffic splashing through the puddles just outside my bedroom window and people walking quickly through the tiny raindrops on their way to a dry place somewhere.

"It's raining again," I say.

"Oh no, my love's at an end," she says flatly.

"Huh?"

"Oh no, it's raining again," she says through the tiniest of grins.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

She turns around and looks at me and starts laughing. Then I get it.

"Why are you quoting Supertramp?"

"Cause."

"Cause why?"

"Just cause," she says as she turns over and buries her face in the pillow.

I wait for the punchline. She turns around and looks at me again, and starts giggling, turning away and putting her face back in the pillow.

"You're still drunk, aren't you."

"Maybe," she says as she rolls back over. "Actually, there's something I've meant to ask you."

"Okay."

She sits up and looks down at me, but her face starts to redden, and she starts laughing again.

"What's so funny?" I ask quizzically. She's still laughing, and I'm puzzled. She's usually forthright and unafraid of saying what's on her mind, but now, she just keeps laughing. Finally, she contains herself and turns back towards me again.

"Okay, there's something I want to ask you," she says before taking a deep breath. "What do you think of Dawn?"

"She's cool. I like her," I say, matter of factly. Susie starts giggling again. "What? Is that it?" Then after momentarily burying her head under the pillow, she comes out from under and turns towards me one more time. She is trying very hard not to laugh, but as often happens, trying to keep herself from laughing just produces more chortling, yet she continues to labor to overcome it.

"Do you like her?"

"Yes, of course, I like her. Did you think I didn't?"

"No, of course not. But what I mean is...do you like her? Do you...think she's cute?"

Now it's getting a little awkward. Susie and I have been getting together Yozgat Escort and boning for a few weeks, but she's been with Dawn for nearly three years now, and it's clear they are madly in love. So when she asks me if I think her girlfriend is cute, I'm feeling like she's asked me if the dress she's wearing makes her look fat.

"Uh...yeah, she's cute. Of course," I say as diplomatically as possible. Susie's face reddens again. She's trying very hard to tell me something, but her head doesn't want her to. Then, finally, she just says it.

"Would you do her?" She asks, looking relieved.

"Huh?"

"Would you do her? Would you fuck Dawn?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I know, but-"

"So?"

"You're asking me if I would fuck your girlfriend."

"Yes, I am. So would you?"

After a moment, I realize following the George Washington example is prudent.

"I cannot tell a lie. Yes, I would."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Because...I would love it if you fucked Dawn." She rolls over and starts laughing yet again.

"Are you shitting me?" She keeps laughing. "C'mon! You're pulling my leg!"

"No, I'm not. I really would love it if you fucked Dawn. I think it would be so incredibly hot if you fucked Dawn."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I want you to fuck my girlfriend." I'm flabbergasted and speechless. "We've done this with other guys before. Sometimes we have threesomes, other times she goes out on dates."

"And you want me to go out on a date with her?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Does she want to...go out on a date with me?"

"I'll ask her."

"You haven't asked her?"

"No, I haven't. I wanted to run this by you first. See what you thought."

"Why didn't you ask her first?"

"Because I like to have it all set up with the guy first. That way, I can tell her I want her to have sex with him."

"You can tell her? You mean you can demand she have sex with a guy. Order her to. Right?"

"Yeah, that's kind of like it."

"It's kind of like a role play, then. Yeah?"

"Yes, it is."

"It sounds like Dawn has a bit of a submissive streak."

"She does. I mean, not in an S