Four weeks ago:
I’m not on with her, and I like that. No game, no pomp-and-circumstance. I genuinely enjoy her company and she is knows how to push my buttons.
“Yo, it’s two women! It’s not two dudes, it’s awright, it’s awright. I could watch this aaaaaall night.”
We both have short hair. I guess that’s as much as it takes to be seen as a boy sometimes – like on the subway platform at Union Square at three am.
He was with a rather large group of young men, and I suddenly lost my hard-on and curled my fists instead. Danger. They’d circled us, predators and prey. But we were not men, so suddenly we were less of a threat. I wished desperately that I was not so fearful of physical confrontation, wished I knew how to throw a punch that would knock him off-center and not break my hand, wished that I knew he could punch me back and I’d be okay, wished that I could puff up my chest and say scary things that would make him squirm and never bother dykes in the subway again.
I wanted to protect her, above all. Kept my body between them and her. Maybe I shouldn’t send her home on the subway. Maybe I shouldn’t go home alone. Who was in more danger here?
I had walked her to the subway, waited with her while it came. She kissed me first, then she was up against the pillar and I gripped it hard behind her, pressing her between me and it.
“You can say no,” she said, “but, are you sure you don’t want to take me home?”
I can still feel her mouth on my earlobe, hot breath against the skin of my neck that was so cold, exposed.
“Since this isn’t a date,” she said, “I’m not going to do these things, but if it was …. I would want to be on my knees in front of you, and take your cock in my mouth.”
Unexpected. Caught off-guard.
“I want to look up at you with my mouth full, and I want to suck your cock till you come so hard in my mouth, so hard you can barely stand.”
So. Fucking. Hard.
“I want you to bend me over and fuck me.” Her breath on my ear. My hands tearing at the curves of her body. I wanted to rip something.
“I want you to take me on my back, to get your biggest, thickest cock and get on top of me, slide it in, because I want to be so full of you.”
It’s amazing the joints in my legs continued to function. I couldn’t speak.
“I want you to fuck me, and fuck me, until we both come and soak the sheets.”
“Yo, can I get a picher? Can I get a photo?” he had his phone out, aimed at us. “I’m from out of town. I gotta get a picher.”
“No.” We both said. He pleaded. “No.”
It really was an amazing evening. I was open and honest, more than I’d expected to be. Scorpios can bring that out of me. I told stories of my life. This is the interesting part, the getting-to-know-you early part, because we get to tell our best stories, tell our best jokes, be our best selves.
“So, are you not taking me home because you don’t know what to think in the morning? I’ll get another “let’s be friends” email?”
I take responsibility for my choices. I won’t regret them tomorrow. “No,” I said. “I’m not taking you home because … well, performance anxiety, for one.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? You write a sexblog!”
Yes. Precisely. She intimidates me, and she reads Sugarbutch. Lucky for me, my cocks don’t fail me, but I can still be bad and awkward, and better in writing.
“So if you’re not taking me home … will I get a chance to do those things to you?”
“I think … that can be arranged.”
By the time we both got home (safely) she had a few additional details she wanted added to this forthcoming encounter.
When I’m on my knees sucking your cock, in just my red bra, panties, and shoes, I want your hands in my hair. When you need me to look at you, I want you to pull my head back, force me to see you watching me suck your cock.
When you’re on top of me, the first time your cock enters me, I want that first stroke to be so slow it’s excruciating, so slow I can feel you muscles filled with that restraint, that tension begging to be released. And just for that first stroke I can’t move, you have complete control for as long as you can make that first penetration last.
She likes being pushed up against walls. Restrained. Forced. I want her wrists bound with rope. I want to smack her beautiful round ass until I leave marks.
Today, I am tightly wound.
Tonight, we have a date.