(Read about Seven Answers).
Far away from romance she and I scuttled behind a low brick-built building to the north of the city. It was a weekend night, Friday or Saturday, it doesn't matter, it didn't matter then. I was drunk, I usually was if it was a weekend. I couldn't tell you the state of her, now, maybe not then. We had come from a club, a night club back then, a former discotheque. We had not arrived there together, I didn't know her though she said she knew me, I guess I may have been flattered. I can't remember if we had much conversation, probably not, just a mutual agreement to go outside.
Our building was just around the corner from the club. I knew it, though [had] not 'used' it before I did live in the area, so did she, it was to become a problem.
The sticky details are unreliable. I was probably exhaling my beer and Bacardi as I slobbered around her not too pretty face. We kept clothes on, it was coat weather. Her knickers possibly moved to a pocket, my pants about my ankles, an old-fashioned 'knee trembler'. No love and waning lust on my part, the anticipation far more weighty than the event. A short spurt of energy and it was over, I was satisfied, she couldn't have been. We walked back from behind the building, a hairdressers I know to have been called 'The Snip'! Ha ha.
I was consumed with regret. I didn't know this person, didn't fancy this person, didn't want anything to do with them, though I had physically been into her. She had emotionally attached herself to me. Though officially a city it was still not a large place to live, avoidance was difficult, everybody seems strangely connected in those situations and I found myself having limited places of sanctuary in the coming weeks.
I believe it to be the only time I've been unfaithful to a partner.
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