The one with the way it should be

So she wakes you up by going down on you. Hardly any picture can be as beautiful as that of a hot girl giving you a head, curiously focused, with an almost scientific attention to the details, licking and sucking, sometimes clumsy, it’s true, but dedicated too.
You just can’t get enough of watching. The physical pleasure yelds to that deeper meaning of her devotion. And then you let her ride you so that she controls the pace to make sure that she gets what she needs. And when you’re both nice and done you light the remains of yesterday’s weed, you sip your beer, you listen to some cool old tunes, you make her some scrumbled eggs, the way only you do that, with spinach and some garlic, then you play the guitar and watch some good old boxing bouts and explain to her the secrets of footwork and techniques.
The night before you talked about the history of European novel, you had some Kafka and Proust, so you could finally share with someone that burning passion of yours that hardly anyone cares about. She listened to you and you listened to her.
You need not to play, to pretend, to say what you’re expected. You’re being the best version of yourself, the one that needs no strategy, no metaphors for getting laid, for saying what you want to say. You can finally speak your mind without minding your speech. And no one gets offended.
But you both play it cool. You don’t love her. She’s great to talk to, to spend time with, and you go along quite well in bed. That is all. These few summer nights prove to you that it can all work out, provided that you both keep it simple and there’s enough booze.
Knowing that this kind of relation is real, perfectly possible, will make you laugh at all those serious girls with their strict rules and adult expectations who act like you’re supposed to promise them the moon. Bitch please, just chill things out and smoke the fucking pot with me. Be who you want, say what you want, always be sincere. Talk trash with me, talk dirty to me, watch boxing with me and enjoy the 69. That’s all we both need, ain’t it? Some of them just stuff their heads with bullshit, naive images, irrational fears. I hope you all get the lives you dream of, that of a thoughtless sheep in the grassland, and you all gently rot in an everlasting kingdom of boredom.