tell me you love me

In The Desperate Hour

Oblivious. That’s what I was the first time I let him climb my back. I wasn’t aware of his commitment to another man. Why would I? I didn’t know his name. I was in a hotel in a big city¬† belly empty backside on fire for something Black and tall. He was number four of six that night.

A few months later over Thai in a dimly lit restaurant he says “I thought you were stupid but attractive. I thought you were a hoe and I’d never see you again.” I think it baffled him that he had a crush on a harlot. By this time he had mentioned his live in boyfriend it was massaged on me that they were at the end of their relationship. Their commitment was only in name because they shared a lease. What-the-fuck-ever: I could not care less; I had already fucked him. As I ate my green curry, he talked about casually dating me after they ended. Maybe after he gave himself some time to self evaluate and heal.

I enjoyed my free meal.

By all means he is a nice guy. Said he only stepped out on his old man after they stopped having sex. Rejection is a hard thing to take from someone you share a home with especially when there are others that are willing to do what your partner won’t. We did a couple cool things platonic friends would do together: worked out at La Fitness, watched the VMAs together, and a midnight diner run or two.

At some point while they were still leaving together, but may or may have not been a couple, he invited me over. I know it was to fuck so I drunk some darks hoping I could be tipsy while it went down. I was was extremely uncomfortable in his place. I’m always sorta awkward it’s just in my nature, however; I felt I shouldn’t have really been in their space. Although they were no longer a couple, I think, or maybe just not happy, they were co-habitating.

I stood. He told me I could take a seat on the living room couch. I was like some new born child not knowing where to go or where exactly where to sit or how to do gracefully. I plopped next to the arm of the couch holding on to it like some security blanket. He tried to make me feel comfortable but I had to go to my car because I left my charger. Really? I had to go take a shot of a mini I had in the glove compartment. I thought I’d take one, but I took two.

When I came back in I told myself I’d be this aggressive power bottom and take control. I made sure he knew what I came for by throwing my ass in his face. First he ate my ass on the couch then he took me to a their spare bedroom.¬† I recall him saying he wouldn’t be that trifling as to take me into their actual marital like bed.

In the spare bedroom as we were having sex he says, “tell me you love me.” I obliged. And while he said afterward it made the sex better; I thought to myself: how desperate can one person be.

But I remember a similar situation when I said it during sex only months early with someone in an attempt to make a connection — to make the sex better. In that moment as well, I said to myself “how desperate can I be?”

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