Machine’s Life: Flirting Machine

His name is Josh, and I can’t stop thinking about him. His soft brown eyes and cute half-smile is so attractive to me. I know, I know, he doesn’t look like the cutest man, but man, his personality almost lifts him to a completely different status.

We met at a cafe inside of a mini Japanese center uptown on a Wednesday. It was a meeting for people interested in Japanese culture and looking to practice their Japanese tongue with a group of local Japanese residents and Japanese-speaking Americans. Why was I, a machine, at this particular cafe filled to the brim with everything and everyone Japanese? In the future, I hoped I would return to Japan, the land I felt so comfortable in, and in hoping so, I decided to learn the language more profusely.

I sat at one of the tables as people began to clambor into the small cafe, drinking my green tea boba drink, while I chattered with a Filipino immigrant. Joshua soon joined the table, and I started a conversation with him and the other people at my end of the table.

At first, I thought he was a bit short–he was only 5’6–but the thought soon faded, and I began to see him as cute. The hour went by very quickly, and soon, everyone climbed to their feet, paid for their drinks, and headed home or collectively went to a restaurant. I went home to study.

The Sunday following, a friend I met at the meeting invited me to Josh’s place for a barbeque, and he picked me. It was a definite bacchelor pad, but I didn’t care. The dog that was almost as tall as one of the tiny Japanese girls was a handful to control. He slobbered everyone and everywhere, leaving tendrils of drool across hands and fingers. (So gross!)

Josh was even more humorous than when I first met him. I was only one of three girls at the barbeque and it took all day to finally settle down for a game of Asshole. Since I wasn’t driving, I drank throughout the entire time at Josh’s place, feeling the guards within me slowly drop to a tolerable and funny level.

While we played Asshole, Josh and I traded insults, innuendos, and role-playing remarks until his dog became ill. When Guitar Hero became the new center game, I asked Josh to show me some moves. He was a former teacher in karate and martial arts, and it had been so long since my last mini martial art session with a cute older guy. He showed me how to get out of different holds and use my small stature to my advantage.

It was odd to be handled by a man. It wasn’t like men never touched me, but just to be pressed against a man’s body struck me as new and exciting. Unfortunately, not paying attention meant I was going to get thrown, so I diminished any thoughts or feelings from my brain and focused on the lesson. “Chin down. Ok, got it.”

I don’t know when I started to think about Josh in that type of manner. I think it was when I was lying in bed later that night, trying to get my mind to shut the hell up, that the thought of kissing Josh began to take form. At first, it was just a simple, sweet kiss, our bodies unsure of how to react, where to touch, what to do. His lips were soft, and I loved his smell. Then, the innocent kiss escalated, becoming a rage of passion and hormones, making our hands grope each other, explore every inch, until the bed was found.

I removed myself from the dream as the scene became laded with X-rated sounds and sights. But the scenes never stopped. Instead, they played randomly, from the bouts of consciousness at night throughout the rest of the next day. Why wasn’t he out of my mind yet? Why?

So much for being an impartial machine…

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