What This Girl Needs
What this girl needs is to conviently forget the 15 research papers, 5 sets of response papers, 15 self evaluation essays, and 50 final exams in her office. And then to lose the only key to the office for the entire weekend.
She needs to leave the office, right now, and go up town and take a long nap with her cat.
Only when she opens the door to take the nap, mysteriously, her lover (whose identity is unknown-even to me) is waiting inside . He pushes her up against the wall and before she has a chance to tell him about all the work she has to, the terrible day she's had, how much she needs to sleep, he forces kisses upon her until she can't think of using her mouth for anything else but kissing him in back. He then rips off her clothes, not all of her clothes mind you, but just the ones that get in the way, leaves her rent panties on the floor, and carries her to the bed to ravish her, several times, over the next five hours.
And when I say ravish, I'm not talking about just sex. I'm taking about the kind of sex that prevents you from walking properly for about five days. The type of sex where the rhythm of your lover's hips becomes such a constant that you can feel for days afterwards, like having been on a boat feeling the motion of the water even after you are on land. I'm talking about the kind of sex that prevents from even thinking in full sentences.
And then I would need a long bath-with rose gel de bain from l'occitane-and a glass of wine. And after that a long massage because all of that sex would have left my muscles sore.
And then to fall asleep feeling him naked curled around me knowing that he will wait until I get up before he goes to get us coffee, good coffee, the way I like it-sweet and light-and kiss me even with my jackson pollock painting hair.
What I am going to get, however, is 50 final exams and 22 response papers to read this afternoon. I am going to go home tired with maybe enough time for a brief nap before I go to ballroom dancing. I am going to ballroom dance with my teacher who is leaving me at the end of the month. And then I will go home and fall asleep as I always do-alone with my cat at the end of the bed.
And I will wake up t0morrow to a mountain of student reading.
And I'm worried I won't be able to get a lover in Paris, and I have to get a lover. I do. I've been chaste for a while now. I know I haven't written about it and it's probably more than you care to know at this point, but I haven't had sex since May. And I haven't had satisfying sex since March. I mean, really. I am one of those people who needs sex to run. How the hell can you expect me get the mail in the morning without the promise sex somewhere in my day? And it's Paris, it's the city of love so I need a lover damn it. A lover with an accent. And I'm not going to be picky. I'm going to grab the first cute bellboy when I land-you know just to start with-to make sure I'm not out of practice.

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