Oedipussy Read Online Free PDF Page B

She moved lower onto me, and she barely slipped me into her. We had never done this before, with one another or anyone else.
    I was somewhat reluctant to provide an answer. I wasn't sure what the correct response to the situation should be - even though I know what I wanted. I wanted everything with her.
    "Yes?" I muttered it, as she sucked on my earlobe. It appeared that this was the next step for us. This was the thing that she needed to help her out of her situation and her mind. This was what the world needed.
    She stayed the night, and we snuck out in the morning before mom noticed anything. If mom had seen Jenny in the house, there was no doubt that I could mention the newest grief in her house and mother would tell her she could stay as long as she needed.
    The next week at school was a blur - but Jenny and I seemed to pass in the halls with a confidence and electricity and honed-in focus that made completing schoolwork as swift and clean as a razor. Our next step made the various responsibilities in our life happen with a natural swiftness.
    I had the interview with the copy shop and nailed it. I handed in a class project on time without even thinking about it. I massaged out my songs on my guitar in the evenings as if I had known them my whole life, transferred down from thousands of years of oral tradition in the punk rock style.
    All of these things became awash in my experience, however, as I wondered how I could sincerely look at all of the great teenage life experiences once the aperture has opened? When making a connection like that with another human being I cared so deeply for? Sure, it seemed like such big things were skipped, but in my memory the most beautiful things that have ever happened to me were a result of this new chapter of my life opening. Sex and music, music and sex, a flower not blooming, but punching open with such velocity that the rest of the garden's spring delights were easy to ignore.
    It was easy for us to refocus. Our new relationship, our new place on planet earth and in our histories, and we began to spend all of our free time together.
    We began a study of most influential everything in all of history. It was as if the stupid trivia game on the stupid computer in the stupid room didn't matter anymore. We went to the public library and borrowed hundreds of albums, devouring everything. The Velvet Underground and Nico, Kraftwerk, David Bowie, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Brian Eno, Patti Smith, and oh, oh Patti Smith, The Stooges, The Clash, Kate Bush, and oh, oh Kate Bush!, The Ramones, U2, and more, more, more. There were almost too few hours in the day to explore and drink in the kings and queens of modernity.
    To explore and drink in each other.
    We also listened to the moderns that were in my own collection that deserved revisiting. Massive Attack, The Smiths, Talking Heads, REM, Nirvana - OH, NIRVANA! - and Nine Inch Nails, and we spun and we spun and understood how to become everything we wanted to be because of everything everyone was before us.
    Compact Discs spun, and so our dreams of what we were and would become. Rather than making out by the glow of the old computer, we were entranced with the sound and the blur of epiphany, excitement, depression, and sage advice coming from the stereo. We would have highs and lows. Kissing, and the music, and we soared through heaven and the clouds, and then dove back to earth in rousing enthusiasm to feel one another's bodies and the hum of music, and the scent of skin, and the sensation of every little nerve ending on my lip trailing across it. We would embrace each other, kiss, cry, simmer, and stew as the waves entered the room and surrounded this period of we.
    Eventually, the Kinko's call came. My employment as a tentative and dedicated employee of Kinko’s began in a week, and I would arrive with chinos, get a blue Oxford shirt, and learn how to make copies.
    Easy.
    So Saturday finally came around again, and the momentum Jenny and I