“I want a psychedelic fuck,” I said. Her e-mail address wasn’t quite that – the profanity was missing one letter and the word “psychedelic” was misspelled – but the meaning was clear enough.
“Me too,” she replied, and she left it at that. I dithered for a while; frankly, I had been expecting more. At the very least, confirmation of any fucks she had had herself – psychedelic or otherwise.
“I’ve had sex,” I humblebragged. “It’s…”

At which point I wondered exactly how to describe what sex is in one sentence fragment. It wasn’t easy. Eighteen years of sex blogging later and I still can’t do it.

“It’s quite good,” I settled on.
“I don’t know, though,” she wheedled. “A friend of mine had sex and it hurt so much she never wants to do it again…”
“It shouldn’t hurt.”
“It was her first time, though.”
“It still shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t hurt any time. My first time was awkward, but it didn’t hurt.”
“I’m not sure,” she went on, “if I’ll ever be ready.”
“Even though we’re both about ready for a psychedelic fuck?” I couldn’t stop myself from saying. The sort of statement I would have put a smirk emoji after had emoji been a thing back then. :-p didn’t really convey the same message.
“Even though. I’ve got another thing I do,” she said. I could practically feel the accompanying blush through the screen.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I’m downloading porn.”
“Oh,” I responded. “Yeah. That. So am I.”

Two years later…

“I don’t know what the sort of thing is,” she said, “but my boyfriend doesn’t really want to have sex with me when I want it.”
“You mean he’s not ready?”
“No, I mean, we have sex when he wants, but not when I want.”

Her boyfriend sounded like a bit of a dick. I never met him, but the pictures I saw looked scary.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a bit of a dick,” I said.
“He is,” she readily agreed, “but the sex is really good. It’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“I thought you said you weren’t ready for sex?”
“That was two years ago. I had sex about a week after that. You told me it shouldn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt. I like it now.”

My heart suddenly beat twice as fast. Did I have that sort of influence?

“Anyway, I want sex.”
“Yeah? Are you going to pounce on your boyfriend with the questionable morals but firm and unyielding penis?”
“Nah,” she demurred. “I’m downloading more porn.”
“Oh,” I responded. “Yeah. That.”

There was a notable pause.

“So am I,” I added, opening VLC as my halo lit up and began to spin.