Remember to Breathe by Simon Pont

Author:Simon Pont
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Urbane Publications Limited
Published: 2012-09-07T00:00:00+00:00

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Friday November 14th, 1997

“Pretty Good”

It’s Friday night, and it’s Just The Two Of Us.

Occasionally, when it’s just Me and The Doris (more commonly known as Sarah), I worry about what everyone else is doing. I fear that everyone else, that Tam, Sean, Jamie, and the Rest of London are all out having a Better Time, without me.

I suggest to Sarah that we go out; she asks we keep it local. The outcome is wine, pub wine. Hardly Jet Set, but actually fine. Sarah is hardly a connoisseur, and I’m plain thirsty. The first bottle – from New Zealand, a quite buttery chardonnay – is sliding down at a steady rate, and by the time it’s up-ended, Sarah wants to talk Sex.

“Earlier today,” says Sarah, “I was thinking about when we had sex last night.”

“Last night? Did we?” I jest.

“Mmm,” Sarah purrs, pauses, then: “Didn’t it feel different?”

Question or rhetoric? With Sarah, sometimes it’s difficult to establish.

I assume it’s a question, but request elaboration. “Different, as in literally?,” I ask, hoping she means literally, and not say, spiritually?

“Yeah, literally.”

Phew.

She adds: “By you being there, and me being... like that...” The words are accompanied with sign, Sarah making a kind of double-scissor shadow puppet. “...you’re going in at... that angle.” Her hand movements continue to elaborate. She is very dexterous.

“And that’s good, right?,” I ask, hoping it’s good (it felt pretty damn good last night).

“Very good,” she confirms, then continues her trigonometry based discourse on the angle of hypotenuse necessary to calculate and – eureka! – stimulate her G-spot. It’s all rather encouraging stuff, sounding like last night’s performance received good, perhaps even rave reviews.

Aussie Bar Bloke comes over, and I wonder how much he’s overheard? Then I think, who cares? If my appraisal had been bad, it would be a different matter.

“Do you guys want another bottle?”

I turn to Sarah, and it’s all “Sure’s,” Why not’s,” and “Cheers, that would be great”.

Bar Bloke departs with empty ice bucket, Sarah proceeds: “So, it felt very different for you too?”

“More pressure at the sides.” I answer, the half bottle of Kiwi grape assisting my candour.

“Better, worse, different?”

“More, er, different,” I say.

Her eye-brows lift. Why they lift, I’m not sure, but I’m fast getting the feeling that our Shared Intimacy did not afford Shared Perspective. Clearly we are once again coming from different angles.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I say, not quite stuttering. “It was very enjoyable. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

There is no good time for cracking a bad joke.

Sarah is silent, holding the almost empty wine glass close to her mouth, but showing no sign that she’s ready to see it off.

I chose to talk on. “It’s just that there have been two other occasions – recently – which really stand out.”

Sarah smiles – albeit only a little – so I continue: “There was...”

As I lean perceptively forward, my eyes widening, she corroborates with a “Uh-huh, that time was great!”

Alrighty now, we’re back on the same page; very much in agreement over “that time”.

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