How do you find love, passion and yes, more sex, now that you are single?

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High noon blazed across the barren landscape of my bedroom. My opponent and I stood stiffened spine to stiffened spine. Now that I was single, the bedroom showdown had begun.

Like a cattleman’s whip loneliness stings my curiosity and I turn to the brutal crack of reality.

My opponent turns low, palms sweating, hands drawn and twitching, matching my speed, my centre-part and right-cheek mole.

Yep I’m playing Cowboys and Indians, in my bedroom mirror, alone.

Single and no chance of any Cowboys or Indians on this horizon. Not anytime soon. Damn!

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What was my first thought when I found myself ‘single’?

I would like to say my first thought was gracious and altruistic.

It was not.

It was, ‘Oh no. No more sex for me’.

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Then I remembered the ‘super secret’ tucked in my bedside cabinet. 

Sunlight probed the tortoiseshell cabinet and with one long fingered nudge the drawer shuddered open.

To reveal one bar of chocolate and one gaping space. My vibrator was gone.

Between moving house, tossing the – ‘things that no longer spark joy’, down-sizing my relationship status and child -proofing mummy’s side of the bed-I had rubbished my vibrating friend.

I tore open the chocolate bar and popped it sideways into my mouth.

On my tongue the sweet slide was … wanting.

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I know vibrators have limitations … they come without Ryan Gosling six-packs and their midday shadows will never loom tall, with Clint Eastwood smiles, swaggering ‘do you feel lucky, well do you?’

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I needed a replacement. But how? I was enroute to Uni and my morning class with hot lecturer.

A little bit of History: Today more than 70% of women own at least one vibrator. 

Just think, we owe our favourite buzzing companion’s invention, to the over worked hands of 19th century Doctors. 

Medical hand jobs were the only cure for 19th century ladies suffering from Hysteria. 

Unable to keep up with the demand and with chronic hand fatigue – Doctors required assistance.

Ask and it will be given – a gift from the gods.

Squished on a peak hour train, fast-track to Uni, between Miss Unfriendly and Mr Too Friendly a sign from the gods’ flutters on my nike airs.

The newspaper’s red letters leap – SALE/BUNNINGSsavings on bulk purchases of AA batteries.

A grinch like grin stretches the slick of my Chanel lacquered lips and sneers off all leery lurking commuters.

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My eyelashes batter off the armpit tendrils of  Mr No-Deodorant-Wearing, Hairy Armpit.

I whip out my phone and tap purchase.

I raise my phone triumphant above my head to screen save my checkout basket.

Lit from above, an unearthly fluorescent-pink-sheen illuminates myself and all my fellow commuters.

We stand, bathed pink, by the formidable full screen selfie, of my new vibrator.

I wish I were Spock calling Scotty, ‘Beam me up Scotty, to a galaxy far, far away’.

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The number one reason I found myself single: I forgot to love myself first. She loved life and it loved her right back.

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Once I remembered who I was,  I forgot about looking outside of myself for love. 

In being alone I remembered I loved being me.

 Yes I found love again but if we want more love, passion, pleasure and sex in our lives, we must learn to love ourselves first.

 

  All images from Pinterest. You can find me on Pinterest here.X

The Friend. Fiction/Thriller/love story

Ta da’  said Connie as she smacked the bouquet the size of a mini haystack into Elvi’s nose. Monkish heads bound in black tissue jostled, their fragrance bruised, brutal, raw like the choice to leave a lover  too-hard-to-let-go.

 Oriental lilies, Elvi’s favourites -Elvi hated them on sight

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‘Thank you’, Elvi said ‘they’re gorgeous.’

How the hell did Connie find her.

Elvi’s lips jutted forward and kissed Connie, twice – a life skill over developed.

Twice, one kiss on each side of her face, keep your friends close and your enemy’s closer flickered beneath Elvi’s lashes.

‘ You shouldn’t have,’ said Elvi.

Connie drew a shallow breath, then another.

‘To be honest, I didn’t,’ she said.

When you opened the door  you looked like a Christmas puppy all eager and fluffy waiting to be loved. ‘They were here on your doorstep.

 I had to give them to you,’ she said.

‘They were on your doorstep’, the flowers quivered fresh.
Elvi pushed past Connie and squinted into the blazing sun,down the ocean road and back into town … ‘Fluffy and eager,’ she and Connie were never going to be friends.

The road was littered with the ant-trail pageantry of gleaming black 4WD’s. Expensive 4WD’s, driven by the dishevelled Nike branded army of kids who surfed every day and ate with double jointed credit cards.

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Who am I kidding, I’m looking for one 4WD, I’m looking for him.

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Elvi dragged her glazed eyes from the sunset – looking for him hurt.

Connie stood before her with narrowing eyes shutting the light retaining every detail of Elvi’s pain and escape.

Connie’s grin widened to the footsteps Elvi heard approaching behind her.

‘Jeff, long time no see stranger’,  said Connie. And she brushed past Elvi into Jeff’s arms.

‘I saw these flowers’ said Connie as her fingers danced across Elvi’s wrist and down towards the quivering stems. ‘I saw these flowers’ said Connie – the monk headed bouquet froze ‘well I told your wife here they were for her but you know I bought them for you.’ she said as she reached up and kissed him.

Jeff laughed, “Come in Connie, we’ve missed you.’ he said  Elvi felt the tenderness of his hand and turned from the shame of his love.

“Come ladies, let me fix us something sparkling’ he said.

Images from Pinterest and my picture gallery