And I don’t mean he tied me up and whipped me- because I would have preferred that.
The weekend of my birthday I went out, and then around midnight went over to his house. I was relatively sober. We had talked earlier that day about giving me a “crash course in bdsm.” I was pretty down for it, and excited.
But as the hours passed by, I started to thinking. Yes, I suspected he was seeing other girls. He hadn’t really said he was, but different little things made me believe he was. So when I got there, he was laying on the couch, and I went in and joined him. After a bit of making out, he asks if I’m ready, and I’m like “Um, about that…”
He stills, and looks at me. “Yeah?”
I was so freakin’ nervous, but I tried not to be. I looked him in the eye. “Are you taking other girls down there?”
He looked away. “Yes.” His voice was quiet.
I studied his face for a moment. I already mentally knew this, so why did my heart drop at his honest answer? Because I wanted to be the only one.
He told me like four weeks ago, right around the same time we had hung out. Which disgusted me. Did I go fuck a guy who just fucked someone else the night before? (The biggest reason this bothers me is he doesn’t consistently wear a condom with me. You fuck around, you wrap it up.)
I finally nodded and said okay. Silence. Long, awkward silence. We were still on the couch, me in his arms. I wanted to melt away. I worked through how I felt, the best I could in ten minutes. I finally asked something the lines of why me, what do you want with me if you have other girls- and other girls that do that with you?
He laughed awkwardly, and said he didn’t know how to answer that, but that he doesn’t do relationships (Christian Grey, y’all). But that he’s realized a pattern of just hooking up with girls and not taking it further and he’s been thinking about that.
We finally go to bed. I somehow slipped and told him I was starting to like him, and that it’s typical of me to like the guys who are emotionally unavailable. Then I made him tell me why he doesn’t do relationships.
He gave me this little sob story about being worried about it ending like his last one, blah blah. It literally pissed me the fuck off. But I try to be understanding. So I squashed my feelings and said “I get that.”
What the fuck. He knows what I’ve been through. I’ve given him a few chances to tell me this was strictly sex and not going anywhere, and every time, he refused. I assumed it was sex, but if that’s all you want, man the fuck up and tell the person. Should I have said I wanted more? Sure. I take some blame.
So he recognizes his pattern and is “thinking” about it. Well, guess what? I also recognize my pattern of always being “second” to people. I recognize that I’m the girl I let become a friend with benefits. I recognize I let guys use me in hopes they’ll come to love me and make me a damn priority.
And I’m determined to do better.
So I told him I wasn’t comfortable exploring bdsm with him if it isn’t exclusive. I should have just said “sex” but I didn’t think about it. I mean, we did have sex after all that talking. It was my first time actually getting off with him- although he doesn’t know that. I can’t tell if I fake it really well or if guys literally cannot tell. Actually, I haven’t even tried to fake it with him. I think he just thinks I have due to something he had said once.
He did end up cumming on my face, which was unexpected. I told him he could have warned me. I know a lot of girls saying it’s degrading. So a part of me wanted to be pissed, but the other part of me just didn’t care. I mean a head’s up would have been nice, but I didn’t care. I did go wash my face off immediately though. I’m not a damn pornstar who wets her finger with it and sucks it off.
In the morning, we joked and whatnot. He hugged me tightly, kissed me, and thanked me for coming over.
That was a month ago. He has since initiated texting more in the past month than he has all summer. I would usually text him 1-2 times a week, and he’d text first maybe once a month. Well, since our talk, I refuse to text him anymore- first, that is. He now texts about once a week. And okay, I gave in, and did text him first like twice. And I did invite him to a haunted house with my brother and I, but he declined. I won’t invite him to anything else, or don’t plan on it.
I told him how I felt- I like him. I told him I’m not comfortable doing more if he’s fucking other girls.
He texts more now, but we haven’t hung out. I am perfectly A-Okay. Annoyed I wasted 7 months on him, but I’m good. A shattered heart can’t be broken, right?