Sometimes these memories come back like flashes of light and I still don’t handle them well.

He had wild hair and wore moccasins without socks. I could tell his chest and feet were sweaty.

Michael was staying in the farmhouse near the entrance of Hopewell Furnace for the summer. When I pulled into the driveway, I could feel the acid bubbling up in my throat from the red wine i chugged on the way there.

Inside the house, everything was covered in dust and the fridge had nothing but 2 bags of KFC. He showed me around the place. Everything felt wet and everything smelled like sweat- the air, his clothes, even my body.

He told me how he fucked two girls the night before and hadn’t showered yet. I was scared and everything turned sour.

In the middle of our conversation, Michael told me that his ex used to get chronic yeast infections and he ate her pussy as often as possible.

He stuck out his tongue, “Does this look weird to you?”

Between his poor diet, bad hygiene, and terrible decision making, i surmised that he had oral thrush.

His response- “Thanks for checking that out, I just wanted you to see it before we hooked up.”

I left before dark. I can still smell the pussy on his tongue.