Closer

I’m really trying not to be distracted. To think about school. I have eleven days until the last project is due. I have to think about a paper. Another paper.

I have to stop thinking about sex.

There are days of late where I can’t remember why I wanted to do this. When James pesters me about not getting any, I have trouble defending myself. I am weakening. But we are getting close to two months left. And he has been a good sport.

I can’t wait until July 8. I keep trying to convince him that as soon as we recess down the aisle after being pronounced “Man and Wife,” we should head to the nearest secluded spot and get down to it. Unfortunately, that will probably not happen. His favorite ice cream is vanilla, so doing it in public has never really gotten his juices flowing. That’s something I’ve known, but you can’t blame a girl for trying.

If anything, I hope not to wait until the end of the reception to get to the room. I’m plotting something like a quickie after dinner and during a portion of the dancing that we won’t be missed–which rules out first dance, bridal party dancing, father/daughter, mother/son in addition to the Chicken dance and the Hokey Pokey. I figure at the most we’ll miss four songs. And maybe no one will notice. I’m just afraid that one or both of us will end up too drunk and/or tired to go for the gold on the wedding night. Am I crazy?

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