We ran into an ex boyfriend of mine at the mall today. Bill. Thats his name. He was an interesting guy. We actually got together by the urging of friends and co workers. I sometimes wonder if that wasn't the only reason he asked me out, because everyone thought we should be together.
Bill was a home body. Didn't like to go out, didn't care to be in big crowds of people, would be perfectly content to never leave the house. Basically a border line agoraphobic. Most of our dates were going out to movies, followed by parking somewhere and making out like it was a matter of life and death. This was at the time of your teenage years when you think its cool to have hickeys. My God, did we have some awful ones. I can recall going into work one morning, and a coworker actually gasped, and asked if I had been in a car accident. It was that bad.
After a few months, the relationship started to slow down a bit. Less going out, and more excuses from him about staying home. That is, unless something tragic happened. He had this strange habit of being extra attentive to me if I were upset about something, especially if I cried. My sadness seemed to be a major turn on to him. I brushed it off at first, but then when my grandma was doing really badly, constantly in and out of the hospital, and I was susceptible to crying more often, he seemed to be in a constant state of arousal.
I can recall him driving me home from the hospital after just visiting her. I started to cry, worried about her, of course, and noticed stirring in his pants just as the first tears fell. The more I cried, the more aroused he became. This was disturbing.
He could ignore me completely for days on end, barely showing interest in me. But at the slightest hint of distress, he was quickly grinding his rock hard erection into my hips or pelvis. I suppose it was his way of comforting me? Surely, sadness can't be a fetish, can it? Regardless, this relationship didn't last long. Unfortunatly for him, we had a happy ending. Ha! My wittiness is unending! :)