“I wonder if you’re weird about your tongue.”
Are you a jabber? A weird lip licker? A dead fish, stick it in my mouth with no movement type? Or, worst of all, do you just not use your tongue at all?
“I am starving.”
Should I eat before this? After? I should’ve had a big lunch. Maybe I’ll just have a light snack before. Something simple. But I don’t have any food in the fridge. I guess I’ll order pizza? I’ll just eat one slice for now. I could eat two tho, tbh. Okay, I’ll do half now and then I won’t eat after? No. I wonder if you like pizza? I don’t think I can go any further with you if you don’t like pizza.
“I hope you don’t smell weird.”
Old Spice (or was it Axe?) were on point with that commercial that said scent is the sense tied closest to memory. I’m not a doctor, but I know that most women hope that you deodorize in such a way that your personal ~musk~ can shine through without being offensive.
“Are you going to kiss me in public?”
I don’t know if I can cop to making out in front of other people yet. We haven’t even made out alone yet. We’re going to the bar with a bunch of people. You wouldn’t try to put your tongue in my mouth there, right? I hope you don’t try to pull a ‘cute’ sneak attack. I’m never going to the bathroom alone.
“I kind of want to make out with you in the bathroom, though.”
Or the hallway to the bathroom, that’s more low key. That would be fun, honestly, the covert secret agent-ness of it all. Yeah. Well, except for the fact that everyone will notice that we’re gone and will assume you’re fingerblasting me in the bathroom or something. Maybe this isn’t cute.
“Are you going to be cute about all this?”
I wonder if you’ll kiss me on the cheek or the forehead or the hand or…anywhere but my mouth or between my legs, honestly. I wonder if you’ll hold my hand full-five-finger-laced or if you’ll link pinkies with me, laid back and light. Chill. Loose and easy. Wait. I don’t want to be thinking “loose and easy” during this hookup.
“I hope you aren’t too cute about this, though.”
Please don’t call me bae. Please don’t call me bae. Please. Don’t. Say. Bae.
“Are you just trying to have sex with me?”
I might be trying to have sex with you too. I wonder if this is mutual. Or maybe I don’t want to have sex with you. Maybe I just want to
“Are you going to hurt me?”
I hope you don’t stop texting me after this happens. I hope that you don’t do something weird or awful that makes me want to stop texting you after this happens. In general, I hope us hooking up doesn’t screw up my (or your own) happiness in any way.
“Are you going to literally hurt me?”
Lip biting is great when it doesn’t feel like you’re trying to give me the opportunity to wear a lip ring.
“I wonder what you look like naked.”
Secret tattoos? Cute freckles? Interesting scars? Third, fourth, fifth nipples? I don’t know what’s up under all your clothes, and even if I’m not going to see you naked tonight, I’m still probably trying to see you naked eventually. Or maybe I’m not. I can be chill. I’m not just some sex-crazed human animal. Maybe I never need to see you in any way besides fully clothed. Nah. Either way, I’m not even going to think about it. (Lol jk I’m def still going to think about it).
“Are you going to go down on me?”
I don’t even know if I want you to this time around, but it’s kind of like getting a ‘Happy Birthday’ on Facebook. Still nice to see the initiation and effort, even if it doesn’t come to full frontal fruition this year…or tonight, I mean, whatever.
“I hope you don’t like *insert shitty music here*.”
Maybe I should buy a Spotify subscription so
“Hm. That reminds me of my friend _______.”
Wait, do I want to hook up with my friend too? No. This is a good thing.
“Hm. That reminds me of my ex.”
Wait, do I want to hook up with my ex too? No. Right? This is a bad, bad thing.
“Would my parents like you?”
Wait….no, no. Get out of my head, Mom and Dad. This is not a family-matters-sitcom-style thing.
“Should I wear cute underwear?”
Are you going to see my underwear? Are you going to touch it? Should I wear lace panties? Fuck, I really hate the word panties. Not the period ones. A thong? Whatever. Granny panties? Ugh, granny and panties. Middle ground? Hm. Cheeky briefs. Cheeky? Ugh. Why do underwear words sound like they’re ripped from a children’s book? Whatever. Maybe I just won’t wear any. Siiiiiike. Safe flesh-toned invisible panties it is!