“The Thirst Is Real.” Is it? Isn’t it? These days, “the thirst” has become a ubiquitous term showing up everywhere from Frank Ocean’s tweets to ratchet reality shows. But what is the thirst? In our series “The Thirst Files,” we decide to share stories and essays that communicate one angle of the thirst whether it involves a woman who develops a sexual addiction or a married man who stalks for affection via the internet. Just so you know, we’re not taking ourselves too seriously here but wanted to take a more focused approach to understanding this thing called “The Thirst” lol. Enjoy our first installment and let us know what other angles of the thirst you’d like to see explored.
Christina first saw him as she was walking out of her anthropology class. He was one of the football player types she liked. Tall, muscular with dark, smooth skin. She was messing with another guy; but she knew it wasn’t going anywhere, so she indulged, free of all guilt. Her admiration was never vocalized until the day she saw him at the bar. She was a bit past tipsy and suddenly had the courage to approach him. On command he bought her a drink and they exchanged numbers. He… we’ll call him Mr. Magic, seeing that her phone was nestled in her bra, decided to call her just to watch it light up and vibrate in her cleavage.
She wasn’t turned off by his behavior because she knew, even then, she had no intention of calling him. Christina was with somebody at the moment. Over the next couple of years, he’d text her randomly, promising that he’d show her a good time. Sometimes she flirted back, agreeing to meet him only to go and spend time with the other guy. Eventually, under adverse circumstances Christina moved in with the other guy. The true nature of their relationship was exposed as she saw firsthand, how involved he still was with his baby mama and other random (older) women he was also sleeping with. Like clockwork, Mr. Magic called again, asking to take her out. This time she agreed. Ironically “the other guy” had the nerve to act offended when Mr. Magic showed up at the door to pick her up. She hopped in the car, watching the other guy give them the finger as they headed to the movies. On the way back to the house she shared with “the other guy” and his friend, Mr. Magic asked her, quite frankly, “So, when are we going to have sex?”
Christina couldn’t even by shocked by this very blunt, very crass question. She just responded with what she thought was the honest truth… “We’re not.” In all honesty, Christina and Mr. Magic weren’t a great match. He wasn’t much for conversation, they had nothing in common and it seemed like the only thing he had to offer her was his body…specifically, his third leg. After years of subpar sex with “the other guy,” she wasn’t in a rush to take him up on that offer.
But Mr. Magic was quite persistent. Once she was able to escape “the other guy.” She saw him again and another time after that. One night Christina made spaghetti and decided to take some of it over to Mr. Magic’s hotel room. The spaghetti went uneaten. Watching television on the couch turned to fooling around and fooling around turned to the most mind-blowing sex Christina had ever had. She described the escapade to her friends, explaining how she became friends with his penis. (She named him.) She marveled at how delicious his dark skin contrasted with the white sheets. Everything about the sex was perfect. It was just the pillow talk and the subsequent interactions that left her wanting.
Sometime in between coitus she noted, jokingly, that Mr. Magic was timid. She saw his brow furrow in contemplation but he didn’t respond, so she figured he didn’t find her quip humorous. Later, hours later, as he walked her to the door of his hotel room, he asked in all seriousness, “Timid…that means shy right?”
So Mr. Magic wasn’t a genius; but it was already too late, Christina was, as they say, sprung off that thang. There was very little Mr. Magic could say or do to discourage her from seeing (and sexing) him again.
He was drafted into the NFL, so for an extended period of time, she and her friend were completely cut off. It was during this time that Christina realized just how pressed she had become. Lucky for her, it wasn’t long before Mr. Magic was back in town. And he wanted to see her. Instead of driving to her apartment, he texted her directions at 10 o clock at night and Christina thirstily drove the 2 hours to his hotel room. This time, the sex wasn’t as good as it was before but still enjoyable. (Mr. Magic was on some jack hammer ish this time.)
Later he was spent and Christina joked about him being narcoleptic. Immediately, it was clear he wasn’t familiar with this word either. This time Christina tried to educate him by providing a reference to the Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo movie. He was familiar. Then he took the association even further, asking “Is that kind of like rigormortis?” Trying to make him more comfortable, Christina agreed. “Yeah, kinda.” Mr. Magic then went on to share with Christina that he was familiar with rigormortis because his grandfather was a mortician. And in the middle of their post-coital, cuddle time, Mr. Magic told Christina that he used to help his grandfather break the bones of the dead bodies that came into the funeral homes.
Because of Mr. Magic’s schedule, he and Christina weren’t able to ever link up again. Despite his…challenges and the fact that they’d never had a substantial conversation, she still yearned to have her friend back. That was about a year ago and even though Christina knows, deep down, that she and Mr. Magic aren’t well suited for each other; she’s still going through withdrawals.
Have you ever been dickmatized? How did you break free?
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