Lincoln: Try not to let your mind wander…
Lincoln firmly believed he had the skills to blow a woman’s mind. That was the phrasing he used, too. He’d lean back in his chair, knees wide apart, and would say “Oh, that blonde? Ha. I blew. her. mind.” His friends would smirk, and they’d all take a gulp of their watery beer, and be very proud of themselves for what they had achieved in life.
Maybe it was lucky for Lincoln that he didn’t know what ladies actually thought about while he was “giving them the business” (another phrase he liked to use). Minds were not being blown. Minds were feeling a gentle breeze… no, not a breeze, that’s too strong. Minds were indoors, in a room that is next to a room with a window slightly ajar.
In the past year, Lincoln had slept with three women.
Jackie was short and blonde. Lincoln had met her at a bar that had pictures of cowboys on the walls. Jackie had been dumped by her boyfriend and wanted to do something crazy, and Lincoln’s attention made her feel pretty. While Lincoln had pounded away like a jackhammer, Jackie thought about how strange his eyebrows looked while he concentrated. Her ex had great eyebrows. They didn’t look like this idiot’s, which were sort of reminiscent of the McDonalds arches. He really should wax them in the middle. Do men wax? Pluck? She’d ask her brother later.
Bethany was a redhead, but from a bottle, and you could tell it was fake, because she waited until the regrowth hit 10cm before she’d touch it up. They met at a party for Lincoln’s brother. Bethany had slept with him out of boredom, a common theme for how she chose sexual partners. While Lincoln had his way with her, she had tossed up whether she should have just recycled Bruce. He was keen and knew his way around her body. Why did she go home with this guy? And was this… was this… sand? In his bed?
Julie was under the impression that she was in an exclusive relationship with Lincoln. Their first date, three weeks prior, had been an awkward coffee where she had done all the talking in one endless nervous babble without pausing or really even breathing and by the time she was left she had a headache and her tongue was dry but otherwise she was happy with how it had gone she thought? After three dates she had given it up, as per her rules, and as Lincoln had climbed on top she had worried about her chunky thighs and her wobbly stomach and if her face looked weird when she moaned and maybe she should practice this in the mirror later and was she being too loud or not loud enough?
Lincoln would usually just think about himself. And unlike his sexual partners, he wouldn’t let his mind wander.