Fantasy Life... in Book of M...

My daydreams have gotten a little out of control…

It’s late. You text me. Almost illegibly. Drowning your feelings in fireball. Wanting to talk to someone. But not a guy because then you couldn’t let yourself show any emotion other than anger. You ask me to come meet you at the bar. I take 5 minutes to look decent and put on just a hint of makeup. I’m worried you’ll change your mind. I’m worried that you’re going to need a ride home, which I will of course provide, but then you’ll want a shoulder to cry on. And what if you expect that to turn into sex… And how do I manage to say no if you do? Bc of course I want to, but I don’t want to be just rebound sex. I want to be with you. And I want you to pick me because you want me, all of who I am, not just because you’re upset or lonely or horny. And you have no idea how hard it is to say no to you. No idea how much I want to touch every inch of you and fall asleep tangled up with you.

I get there. I find you. I order a drink. I listen to every word, every complaint, every emotion. I tell you that it sucks, but that you deserve better and she’s out there somewhere. I tell you that you could have any girl you wanted. That it’s her loss. That eventually you will be happy, but that it’s better to be alone than in a miserable relationship. I should know.

You suggest we play pool. You say you’ve gotten better. I’m game. You ask what I want to bet. I’m indecisive as usual. I finally say a make-out session when you’re ready. You say you want a blowjob if you win. We start playing. You’re flirting. It’s eerily similar to the last time we hung out. You’re winning it seems, but I already knew I sucked at pool. Seems luck is on my side though because you scratch on the 8 ball. I win. You insist we play again. I don’t have any good ideas for bets, so you make them for me. You still want your blowjob, but if I win, you return the favor. I’m doing better this game, but you’re sobering up some and beat me. We talk some more. You insist you are fine to drive home, but I’m not 100% convinced. We drink water. After a while I agree, but insist on following you home to make sure you get there safely since your house is own my way home.

We leave. I follow. We get to your house. I get out to hug you goodbye. You invite me in to see your puppies. Of course I love puppies. You hand me a drink. We sit down and talk some more. You mention having won that last game. I know what you’re hinting at. I seem to recall winning that first game. You kiss me. It’s as amazing as I remember it. Before I get just entirely mesmerized by you, I remind you that I’m not interested in being rebound sex. You kiss me again. I’ve already lost this battle. I kiss you back hungrily. Moving from your lips to your neck. Tugging your shirt upwards. Kissing down your chest. Unbuttoning your jeans…

Like I said… I’ve already lost this battle.

I don’t know how to say no to you.

And I don’t want to.