“Stop, please stop,” I say, laughter abound as Frank tickles me. “OK, I’ll tell you where it is!”
He wants to know where I keep my blue movies. He lets go of me and I open a drawer by my bedside. My stash has the most idiotic names, all of them derived from well-known movies. Pulp Friction, Womb raider, My Bare Lady, Saturday Night Beaver and Everyone I Did Last Summer.
“Why would a nice girl like you have such a large collection of filth?” Frank asks with a smile.
“Because of boyfriends like you,” I respond sweetly. “Do you actually want to watch this stuff? It causes erectile dysfunction.”
“What? It does not!!! Quite the opposite I think,” he says with a hoot.
“Seriously Frank. I read about it in GQ magazine. Men hooked on this kind of thing are eventually affected and cannot perform in the bedroom. A real woman, no matter how she looks, is only one woman,” I tell him as I point towards him with one of the DVDs. “A brain trained for constant sexual novelty won’t find her arousing after a while.”
Frank takes the DVD from my hand and pulls me towards him. He then rains kisses on my forehead. “I do not see a day when this body is not enough for me,” he says.
I can feel the evidence of his words against me as he pulls me even closer. “See what you do to me?” He asks. “We haven’t even started watching the movie yet!”
He pulls away and places it into the DVD player. The one he has picked is a love story of sorts. There is a lot of foreplay. Kissing.
“Let’s get to the good part,” Frank says and reaches for the remote control.
“Leave it!” I say. “Kissing is the best part!”
He lets out a disgruntled snort.
“What do men have against kissing?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t say we have anything against it but we view it as a means to an end,” he responds.
Wow. Mr Romantic.
“A means to an end? As in sex?”
“Yes. That’s all we want and the kiss is part of the journey that we have to take to get to our destination. If we could take a short cut, we would, but you girls seem to like it so we live with it,” he concludes.
“Live with it?” I ask incredulously. “You don’t enjoy kissing me?”
“This I feel, is somehow going to end up with me sleeping on the couch so let’s change the subject,” he says as moans emanate from the TV set.
I pick up the remote and turn the TV off. “I want to talk about this now,” I say.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Frank says sounding irritated. “Kissing is not my thing. I don’t like it. Is that what you want to hear? I do it for you.”
“Kissing is one of the most intimate things you can do with someone. It’s so intimate that it’s the only thing prostitutes refuse to do. And you’re saying that you don’t like it? Generally? Or just with me?” I ask.
There is a slight pause as he weighs his answer. “Generally,” he finally says.
“You had to think about that, huh? Get out of here, Frank,” I say.
“Baby, what are we fighting about?” Frank pleads. “You know how much I love you and our sex life is great. Who cares about a silly kiss?”
“Kissing helps release chemicals which help in relationship bonding. It also reduces cortisol, which if left unabated, leads to stress. There’s nothing silly about that,” I say pouting.
“Fine, let me kiss you baby…” he says.
“No, get out Frank,” I say and head to the door to hold it open for him to leave.
He stares at me in disbelief. “Get out.”