BY JANELLE COX
He rose to his knees and hovered over her on the twin- sized bed of his small townhouse bedroom. The desk had books on it thrown about and the TV, which sat on top of the frame, was on a sports network she did not recognize. He had piles and piles of shoeboxes under his bed next to his storage bins of clothes, drawer, and mini fridge. His closet stood tall in a corner topped with empty alcohol bottles, deodorants, lotions, and shampoos. The walls were blank and emotionless like his stare.
Their abdomens glisten with a combination of his and her sweat. She looked back at him and breathed softly. She tried to fix herself before she laid her head back down on his pillow. She was more concerned that he didn’t see the tracks of the extensions in her hair, although she was fully nude.
Before they had sex, she was a little more concerned with her body. Even when the lights are off, she still remembers to suck in her stomach. She’ll lie at just the right angle so the lights from outside the window don’t highlight the stretch marks across her hips and ass. Once they would start the involuntary behavior seemed so petty. In her most vulnerable state, it seemed trivial to fret about whether or not she smudged her eyeliner or mascara.
His hair is lopsided because he kept his head in the same static position during their time together. He always faces the wall and never looks her in the eyes.
He rolls off the bed, grabs a towel, and turns on the fan. As he checks his phone for notifications and messages she lies there for only a moment longer before she remembers she has to use the bathroom. She dead bolts the door before she exits, takes a left, and opens the bathroom door to her right. It usually takes a few seconds before anything comes out, but she sits there determined. She takes one last look in the mirror and she looks for any evident flaws or obvious imperfections he might have noticed.
He’s lying down on the bed again when she enters the room. The TV is on, but he’s still scrolling down his phone. He chuckles softly to himself whenever he reads or sees something funny, but never shares the information with her. She climbs back onto the bed and places herself between him and the wall.
“Move over,” he says pushing her further away. She grabs her phone checking to see if she has any notifications and messages. She plays games and scrolls through her phone until her eyes grow heavy and starts to burn from the stress of staring at various screens all day.
“Can you turn off the TV?” she asks. He doesn’t respond, but reaches for the remote and turns it down.
“I can’t sleep with it on,” she insists once more. “Not my problem,” he says turning his back to her. She turns over as well to face the wall so the light from the TV isn’t as glaring. They lie next to each other cheek-to-cheek. It usually takes her a while to fall asleep and tonight isn’t any different. “Sex is simple,” he would say to her and he is right. Biologically we are hardwired to want to find someone. Biologically we are hardwired to want to reproduce and breed new individuals. Just as a bird is not taught how to fly we are not taught how to reproduce. Put a woman in front of a man and it won’t take them too long to figure out what goes where. “Bust a nut and call it a day.”
Sex. What was a fundamental means to survival has then since been convoluted with our own desires and beliefs. Humans and other species alike evolved and what was once a necessity to evade extinction has transformed into some activity of recreation. For others it has become a political stance to control the way or whom we decide to participate in this activity with. There are those who look at sex as a religious choice to abstain from until marriage or for life as a means to become closer with a higher power.
In the biblical sense sex has been around since the creation of both man and woman when God took a rib from Adam to create a companion for him, Eve. “Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the men. The man said, ‘This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called ‘woman’ for she was taken out of man.’ That is why man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife when they become one flesh.” Genesis 2: 22-24 NIV. She always wakes up before him. Again she’ll try to fix her hair, but her curls have already fallen or her straightened hair has frizzed from the heat between their bodies on the twin-sized mattress. She’ll lie there and check her phone again until she gets bored. She’ll run her fingers along his spine trying to find any flaws or imperfections that may run across his brown skinned body.
“You want to go again,” she’ll ask.