Monday, April 9, 2012

How I Found Out I’m Kinky Part Eight: The Long Goodbye



Later, during the now-usual part where he jerked off and talked dirty, he started in on a little story about going to goth night with me. (I’d been suspecting that we hadn’t gone yet because he was embarrassed for his friends to see me. Goth night is a big holiday reunion spot in our city.) He said “You want me to take you to goth night? And maul you? Tie a little ribbon around your neck to show that you’re mine? Never let you leave my side?”

“Yeah”

“Well, that’s never gonna happen.”

My face fell and my eyes misted up. “That actually hurt my feelings a little.”

And that’s when he came.

I got up and gathered my clothes, hid behind the kitchen wall to get dressed.

He said “Awww, I just wanted a fuck doll!”

I just felt so dirty and sad. He sat up and we started, haltingly, to talk. But first he said “What time are you kicking me out?” and I said I didn’t have work that day so it didn’t matter.

“Listen,” he said, “I said I like you, and we are friends, but if someone else comes along who can be monogamous, I’m going to have to choose her. I can’t see sharing in a serious relationship. I have a HUGE ego.”

I couldn’t imagine what I might not be doing for his ego. I don’t know why his admission broke me up so much, as it was basically the same arrangement that I had with MKT. I didn’t have the courage to ask him why that meant we couldn’t go out in public together, but I did tell him that I wanted someone who could be more a part of my life, and that this situation seemed more like an affair. I told him I’d have to start scrolling through OK Cupid again, even though I didn’t want to. He said, “Good luck with that.”

Will Do came on shuffle and really summed up our misery at that moment:


I’d resolved not to get bogged down in crushes anymore, so I had to let him go. But I didn’t want to.

“I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship. My profile is basically a warning.”

“Well, I didn’t see it that way. And there’s a long way between “serious relationship” and “I just came, it’s time to go.”

He stuck around for the rest of the afternoon. We took off the sad music and put on a sad episode of Party Down, the one where Henry might have to move back in with his parents. Bill was getting sick and so he coughed a lot at said “groan” aloud a lot. He made me come again and during that time, I flirted aloud with the idea that maybe I could be a fuck doll for a few more weeks.

He told me I shouldn’t like him, that he deserved nothing but contempt and pity. I said that usually, I treat my friends a little more kindly than that.

“Never gonna happen,” he said, “In fact, no more feedback at all.”

I climbed on top of him and held his arms down.

“Oh, so now you want to be on top?”

“I’m working on my contempt.”

I threw my weight into pressing his wrists behind his head as hard as I could and he pressed back. He grabbed for my throat in a way that almost went horribly wrong.

“Um, that was kind of dangerous. I actually kind of need my trachea.”

He snorted like he didn’t care. I held him down as long as I could but then he pushed back, flipped me over, and forced me onto the floor between the couch and coffee table. He had an “Is that what you wanted?” expression on his face as he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up so that I was standing next to him. Everything was sore but he kept grabbing, playing, shoving, held my hands behind my back and kissed me. He pushed me into the column in the center of the apartment and bit the back of my neck hard—I joked (and I never, EVER make jokes like this) that I’d just say I’d walked into a door. He pushed me onto my knees and took his dick out, shoved my mouth onto it. He pushed me down to the floor and I said “Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to come in my mouth.”

“Don’t worry, it’s on my list.”

He pulled open the button of my pants and put his hand in. I was dry from having a tampon in and it hurt. I played with him some more but he’d gone soft. He asked what time Sweetie would be home and suggested this might be a good place to stop. I said I did need time to Febreeze the couch, and that I should Febreeze myself too—I smelled like him just as much as the couch did.

I broke things off with him that night, saying I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more of a relationship and that I was weirded out that he wouldn’t go anywhere with me. I thanked him for everything he took me past and did all the necessary internet blocking.
I checked his Tumblr a couple days later and found The Long Goodbye cover and the poster below. At least I knew he was still thinking of me.

The End, and here’s hope for all kinds of moving on.

2 comments:

  1. What's the emoticon meaning "I love you and I hope you're better for all of this although I'm sorry you went through and thank you for sharing all of it and call me soon"?

    <3

    ReplyDelete