thatgirlfinch

She's "that girl." You know the one... You never really went steady, but you'd run into her from time to time while knocking around in disreputable joints, usually late at night. She looked so hot, so sleek, so sexy, so expressive, so exotic. You'd end up back at her place & the night would just.. take off. A complete blur of hot, sweaty, feverish, delirious, fumbling passion. You'd do things to each other.. you'd do things to her, she'd do things to you.. things that you're not even sure have names, that you're pretty sure are illegal almost anywhere. Even her kinks have kinks & after one of these nights, you'd realize that you yourself had a lot more kinks. And it wasn't just physical, it was cerebral. Ethereal. Transcendent. But it would all whiz by in a blur, and by morning you'd find yourself lightheaded, a bit confused, & stumbling homeward to your regular gal. Finch is just too much for any one man, probably. She leaves a trail of broken, brainy, embittered engineers and washed up politicians behind her. She ruins you for the RealWorld. You can ride a while, but you probably can't go the distance with her. Go back to your regular gal and try not to think too much about what you've seen. Done. Felt. Thought. Maybe you can salvage a little happiness; but it'll be hard. After all.. you've tasted.. her. She's not like anything else.