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[dumbdumbyipes]

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It was the first time interacting with another human since the pandemic. I’d reached out to someone that I still half-trusted. Ryan. Safe Ryan. Dom Ryan. I had been not very nice to him. He was sensitive and I was immature. My feelings for him were always complicated. Usually frustrated because I knew he could give me everything I wanted but he never would. Annoying. I never could bring myself to ask for it either. Too proud to be vulnerable in front of him. Also annoying. He probably thought I was such a cunt. Men still like fucking cunts though. I was nervous when he came to the door. I couldn’t remember the last thing I had done to piss him off. Our trysts usually ended in a huff with us both saying mean things to each other. I think we were both similarly sensitive actually—I would always end up going cold and aloof trying to pretend like I didn’t care when things weren’t going my way instead of communicating. He would withdraw similarly because he was used to my avoidant bullshit and go cold and suspicious on me when I wanted reassurance. He had a special way of saying something cutting that would worm it’s way into the back of my mind and stick with me for a long time. I’d forget eventually and only remember the hot hot sex. I returned to him regularly and was usually the culprit when it came to emotional irresponsibility so I can’t say I didn’t deserve it. 

His presence was simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. I was afraid the first time I met him and I was afraid then but I pretended not to be. He walked in and we sat on the couch in front of the tv, something inane droning in the background. His expression remained unreadable. I wondered why he still wanted to be in my vicinity. If I would ever not feel kinda guilty around him. If he hated me. If he thought about me at all. I always wished I could karmically redeem myself by letting him take everything out on me. A punishment I actually deserved. Some actual context for this weird pretend game I play with people where they hit me for no reason. Maybe doing it for a reason is abuse lol. He never seemed vindictive like that. Always so fucking maddeningly even-keeled. I don’t know why I wished he would be mad at me. Maybe I equate that to caring. 

My thoughts were interrupted by him putting his warm hand on my leg. I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding and relaxed fractionally savoring the feeling of human contact that I had forgotten I had missed. I wanted more of it immediately. I wriggled awkwardly down the couch until my head was in his lap. He stroked my hair, tentatively at first, his fingers tracing lines on my scalp and forehead. They continued down the sides of my face and when they ghosted over my throat my breath hitched and my pulse quickened instantly. That’s all it takes to send me over the edge apparently. Fingers barely touching my neck. It’s weird how the most innocuous of touches from him could have more of an effect on me than someone else beating me black and blue. 

I felt almost stupid, dazed by lust as his hand continued up my neck towards my mouth. My eyes kept going unfocused and felt glassy. I barely suppressed a moan when he pressed a single digit past my lips and my eyes fluttered shut as I sucked it eagerly. It was embarrassing how desperate he could make me feel. I doubt he was even fully aware of it. He had barely done anything to me and I was already a mess while he sat there impassive as ever. I swirled my tongue around the tip of his finger in a way I hoped was alluring. Then he kissed me. A good kiss. One that made me suspect maybe he didn’t hate me after all. His mouth made its way back to my throat and I probably couldn’t have told you my own name at this point. I was completely lost in sensation. My world had been narrowed down to his lips and tongue on my neck but i could feel him everywhere. I didn’t know erogenous zones worked like this. That I could feel every whisper of his lips and tongue on my neck directly on my cunt. Reduced to nerve endings. I can’t remember what I was doing at this point. I think my body was writhing uncontrollably on top of him and I couldn’t hold back the strange noises forming in the back of my throat—some combination of a moan a scream and a sigh. I almost orgasmed right there but stopped myself accidentally, trying for some reason to regain composure—it scared me to be so out of control of my own body. Embarrassed me even. That’s never happened to to me before. I probably would have cum if he said something to take me out of my head. “Look at what a fucking slut you are for me. No one else can make you feel this way. I know you need me.” In that moment he wouldn’t have been wrong. 

I can hardly remember what happened after that point. I know he fucked me and I loved it but I feel like my brain shorted out when he was kissing my neck and I was a happy compliant puddle at that point. Anyways writing this down for posterity since that was probably the hottest foreplay of my entire life and it was borderline vanilla. He made me mad again and I’m not talking to him anymore but I’ll probably come crawling back to him in a few months or years like I always do. I wonder how long until I’ve burnt the bridge for good. He’s the only one I ever go back to after parting ways. Maybe I’ll stop someday.