I looked through my tapes, looking for his approval.
"We can watch Clueless, you want to?" I asked him.
"We saw that five years ago, dear," he said, a grin on his face. I thought he had forgotten. Then I remembered, this man never forgets anything.
I smiled back, and continued to look through the movies.
He saw one peaking out of the stack, and said, "What's that? Is that porn?"
I turned red.
"Yeah." I didn't want to say anything else. I had an extensive collection of porn, but I didn't want him to know about it. Chicks weren't supposed to have porn, anyway.
"Pop it in, let's watch some porn." I stared at him.
"What are you looking at? Let's go!"
He was my ex-boyfriend. THE ex-boyfriend. The one that got away, if you will. We had gotten together for old times sake, and somehow, after a nice quiet dinner of reminiscing and giggling, we ended up at my apartment. I thought he'd leave after he walked me back to my door, but he asked if he could come in.
Which wouldn't have been such a big deal if I didn't have a boyfriend.
But I was trying to ignore that small little fact.
So here we were, going through my movies, ready to settle in to a night of movie watching. I wasn't counting on having a showing of my porn collection.
I might add that when we first dated, neither of us had much sexual experience. Everything was brand new for us, and we didn't go very far. I had always wondered what he'd be like with a little more experience under his belt.