Breakup Sex

Going back into the club for a beer, all I can think about is—who am I kidding? I'm not thinking about anything; my little soldier is in command, and it's time for some field maneuvers. The liquor keeps coming, as do the kisses and the groping.

Neither my girlfriend nor I thinks about whether we'll have misgivings or regrets about this situation. We both know we're together for fun, not romance. Tonight, I will be king. It never occurs to me that it could be less than total bliss; the kind of bliss that comes from living out what mere mortals only fantasize about.

It's time to leave—the brunette has finished her shift. All she needs to do is change. My girlfriend offers to go with her, and I'm more than happy to stay behind and have a drink while I wait.

Until an hour has passed, I refuse to wake up to the possibility that I'm being excluded from the tryst altogether. When my girl finally walks up to the table, though, I know what's already happened and what isn't going to happen. I'm right.

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