The Falling in Love Pattern

“I dont even know you,” Deanna is whispering in my ear.

“All the better,” I say.

Sometimes foolish men attribute their success to blind chance. Other equally foolish men mistake coincidence for success.

There was the time my car got hit by a van full of illegal Mexicans, and an insurance check paid a trip to Cancun I didnt think I would be able to afford. Easily assignable to coincidence. Another time I called a radio station every hour on the hour until I won tickets to a Tom Petty concert. Easily assignable to success.

Deanna puts something soft and damp into my hands. I look to down and see that its a pair of her turquoise colored panties.

Tonight is a toss up.

Deanna clutches the lever of my seat and pushes me back. She climbs on top of me. Im pinned down by my seat belt. She is running her hand down my chest. With her other hand she cups the back of my neck and pulls my face toward her. The seat belt has me trapped and our mouths dont reach each others. She puts her finger to my face and I put it between my lips. She is unbuckling me.

For the first five weeks of our Creative Non Fiction class she didnt know I existed. I was part of the crowd. My baseball hats, my Sublime t-shirts, my five clock shadow, my bloodshot eyes “A typical frat boy,” is how she described me to her friend.

She is hiking her yellow sun dress up to her waist. Im free now and our mouths are locked, tongues thrashing together. Ive got one hand cupping her bare ass; my other hand is wrapped around the back of her neck.

“Are you wearing contacts?” I ask her.

“No why?”

“Just wondering,” I say.

There is a reflection from the street light our car is parked under, and her pale blue eyes are glowing like an Alaskan Huskies.

Success or coincidence?

Shes fumbling with the buttons on my jeans. Ive got a tit smashed against my face. Her tongue is cleaning out my ear. I lift my ass, as she slides my jeans down.

“Do you think Im pretty?” she whispers.

“Beautiful,” I say.

“Tell me,” she says.

Our assignment a week ago in class was to write a short story describing a memorable experience.

There were stories about a skiing in Vermont, a first trip to Yankee stadium, a death of a father, the birth of a child, winning a spelling bee in the sixth grade, a Garth Brooks concert, Paris in the spring time

I wrote about the first time I fell in love

Shes straddling me and our pubes are rubbing hard against each other. She reaches between our legs and wraps her hand around The Boss. She adjusts herself and guides me into her.

Her eyes roll back into her head.

Outside cars are passing by. Horns are beeping. Engines igniting.

Success or Coincidence?

There was a moment of hesitation when the professor called on me to read my story to the class.

This was the big go Mike and Buff had been using Speed Seduction frequently since the cassette tapes arrived in the mail a few weeks back. They had the jump in and learn to swim type attitude with the stuff. I mainly sat in front of my mirror reciting patterns and practicing tonality. The perfectionist in me always found it wasnt quite the right time.

I am in Creative Non Fiction reading my story from the paper in front of me…

“It was my third date with Shari when I realized what was happening. Its like youre not even aware until its too late. Youve already begun to feel that connection… and grow even more attracted. You begin to pay attention in that special way. First, becoming aware… of the rhythm of your breathing… the beating of your heart… and that sense of growing fascination… such that as you continues to be aware of all this… one particular feature of the their face begins to rivet your attention… so as you just continue to keep looking… it’s like the rest of the environment disappears… and the entire world becomes this face…”

I am keenly aware of the eyes of the class on me. I am self conscious and a bit uncomfortable with what Im reading but its too late to stop.

“You don’t even know why you just have to go deep inside and find all those values that are so important to you but you just naturally link them up with this person such that you find yourself beginning to look through the eyes of attraction … cause I find when you look through the eyes of attraction, look through the eyes of desire, that’s when you can make that connection…”

The Falling in Love Pattern

Deanna is grunting and growling. The restriction of fucking in a Jetta is unsettling. I have to lift her a little so I can bounce her up and down on The Boss. Im getting a case of rug burn on my crotch. Her eyes are closed which is good because a couple students are walking past our car. I put my hand over her mouth to silence her. I see them peak in but continue walking.

“And as you feel that passion growing more and more maybe to a point where you feel yourself just letting go completely as you allow this person to come deep inside releasing all those feelings that have been building and building up inside, you just want to release them in a flood and I find when you do that now with me I find you just feel so enchanted like you are now under a love spell cast upon you such that you can’t control yourself and just find yourself going wild with it”

Success or Coincidence?

The Boss explodes. Deanna collapses on top of me.

To be continued

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About Bobby Rio I'm Bobby Rio, one of the founders of TSB. I tend to write about what is on my mind so you'll find a mix of self development, social dynamics and dating articles/experiences.  For a collection of some of my favorite articles check them out.

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