Friday, April 8, 2011

Hard-ons should not make decisions for you

At first he said he had to think about it. I bid him good night and ignored the rest of his messages. The next day, I wake up with a serious hard on. Just when I'm considering my alternatives, my phone buzzes and it's him.
"I've thought about it and I want to do it. Are you still free?" I should have ignored that message too. I should have just jerked off and began my day.
Instead I texted back, inviting him over.

Later that afternoon he came over and we chatted in my living room. Eventually, I took him into my room. We chatted some more. I don't know why I was delaying the inevitable. Maybe I was trying to build anticipation. Finally I asked him if he was ready to fool around.
"I thought you'd never ask."
I laughed and we started to take our clothes off. It was a no frills moment. Clothes off. Hidden skin and genitalia exposed. We climbed back into my bed. Immediately he latched onto my right nipple. Sucking hard, making me twist my body this way and that. His hand traveled down my bare stomach to my pussy, his finger played with my clit. His mouth followed the same path as his hand. Tongue jutting out along the way, every now and then. At last, he was there, blowing on my clit. I'm looking quite big these days. Big enough for dudes to stick me in their mouths and suck the shit out of me. He did that. I was bucking, squirming and wailing like an idiot. I wanted him in me, so I threw a condom at him. For some reason he had some trouble putting it on and then I noticed he wasn't fully hard. He tried another condom and still couldn't put it on. Then he gets all fidgety, like he's embarrassed or something.
"What time is it?"
I tell him and he starts getting getting up.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"Maybe we should stop now because I'm having a hard time adjusting to...stuff?"
Stuff? What stuff?
"I don't understand..."
"You really look like a dude."
I'm stunned. I mean isn't that an observation you make before you stick your head between someone's legs?

"You're just realizing this now?"
"I know. I guess it's kind of tripping me out. Next time I'll feel more comfortable." Next time? There will not be a next time...

A few awkward minutes later, we're both dressed and at my front door. Like nothing had happened, he starts in with the chitchat.
"Well, thanks for coming over." I cut him off mid sentence and unlock the front door. I may have snapped. He's taken aback and asks if he's offended me. Are you kidding me? I've already expended way too much energy on this hook-up. I don't have time to explain the ridiculousness of the situation. So instead I do what every self-respecting radical queer activist would do. I feigned a phone call and gestured goodbye as I closed the door on his ass.

1 comment:

  1. I'm sorry. That's fucking horrible. I'm sensitive to this in a slightly different way, where cis men especially will use my female body as a safe zone where they can ignore the male parts of my identity. It's painful when people reject our bodies/selves but you sounded like you were pretty kick ass about it.