As He Explained It

23 Oct

How did we get here? One night, through a mutual friend, a chance meeting in town. And now look at us, we’re here. In this mess. This mess you put us in. This mess your body put us in. You sit there on the floor, on your knees, like a good girl, waiting for instructions from your Sir. Tonight I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to shove you right up against the limits of what you can take and then push you a little further. Maybe it’s to punish you for not wanting me. I look down into your blue eyes, those expectant eyes, those trusting eyes, and I know you don’t have a clue what you’ve put me through. Your rejection has destroyed me. It has emasculated me. It’s fucked with my head and corroded my confidence. You have no idea what I’ve done for you- the lengths I’ve gone to to change for you and be better for you so you’ll want me. Still, you don’t want me. What the fuck do you want? Why do you keep coming back if it’s not me you want? If its dick you’re after, there’s dick closer to home. So what’s this about? Is it the rush I give you? Is it because, unlike the others, I’m not afraid to hurt you? They’re too gentle with you aren’t they? They treat you like a princess don’t they? You hate that shit. Because you’re a slave to your desires. Because you like it rough. No; you need. You fucking need it rough. Do they know that? Do they know how you need to cry out until you can’t cry out any more? You need that sweet release that only pain can bring. But they’re too afraid, aren’t they? Thinking you’re more fragile than you really are. But I know the truth- you’re cold and steely. You’re a kitten on the outside, but wires and gears on the inside. Aren’t you? Mostly, at least. Every now and then I see the softness you desperately try to hide. Every now and then I get a taste of it before it’s snatched away, hidden from me. You like to punish my kind don’t you? You like to punish us by denying us your sweetness, your softness. You don’t trust us. You never fully give of yourself. You never melt under my touch, and I fucking hate that about you.
Why won’t you submit in the way that I want you to? I look down at you now and I see you’re frustrated- tonight I’ve toyed with you, denied you what you want. But now you’re sick of the build-up. You just want the grand finale so you can go home. Now you want dick. Now you want to cum. Get on, get off, get dressed, get out, go. But if I can’t have what I want, neither can you. But there’s other reasons…
“You’re not going to touch me are you?” You ask. I’m a dick so I touch my fingertips to your shoulder. “I am touching you?”. You’re Instantly annoyed. You get so bitchy when you’re frustrated but it’s funny. I’d never say it to your face but. You’d get so fucking angry…
“You haven’t touched me properly the last two times that I’ve seen you…” you complain to me.
Your eyes are sad. You look like you might cry and it gets to me. As much as you’ve hurt me, I hate to see you hurting. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just, I can’t…”
You look away. You’re trying hard not to cry. “Do I turn you off?” You ask without looking at me. I say no, when I really mean yes. I want to fuck you but I can’t. It makes me sick thinking about it. I know it’s me and my own hang up, but everything is different now. Now I think of your body as a graveyard-instead of my playground-and I don’t want to visit that. I don’t want to be inside of that. But I miss you. I miss that. But you fucking lied to me. You lied by omission and now I’m supposed to pretend everything is like it was? It’s not. It’s different now. You get up and collect your clothes. I watch you dress and I can’t let you just leave like this. I stop you and pull you over to the bed. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel or how angry or hurt I am. And I feel stupid even admitting to it. So I just kiss you instead. Deep and hungry. I kiss you until I’m more turned on than sickened by the place between your thighs. I kiss you until I’m ready to push past my feelings and give you what you want. It’s what I want, too.
I don’t think about it. Somehow it doesn’t even cross my mind once. Except at the very end when I watch you tie off the condom and check it.
You’re worried. You’re paranoid. So am I. At least you’ll know what’s going on- I am in the dark. Where you left me. Where you didn’t give a fuck about leaving me. I’m angry again but I pull you into my arms anyway. You close your eyes and I close mine. I imagine that things might be different. I imagine that you stop rejecting me out of fear. But you never will- you don’t trust me because I am a man. And we’ve hurt you so badly you don’t trust any of us anymore. You won’t admit it, but you hate us. Maybe it’s always been that way and you just never realized. But you won’t stop rejecting me because deep down (and you’ll never admit this) you’re afraid of me and what I might do to you. It’s one thing to beat your ass when you want it. It’s a whole other thing to experience the pain of betrayal. And you don’t trust me. You don’t think I can be loyal because of my job and the supposed culture of it. You think I belong to a boys’ club, that I’ll cheat on you or smack you around after a bad day at work. You don’t believe I can love you and meet your needs on any level- spiritual, intellectual, emotional, physical. You look at me and you think I’m lacking. That I’m not good enough for you. You hate me- even if you need me right now- you hate me. And I make you feel afraid. You cry in your sleep and I break inside. I hold you a little closer and your face softens. Your peace is restored. For now. You can’t or won’t believe that I can be different and nothing I do or say can change that. I know I need to let you go. I need to let you go like everyone is forced to do in the end. You’re too painful to want. Wanting you is a fools’ errand. But I still want you even though it has destroyed me. I pretend to be asleep when you get up and dress quietly. I feel you looking over me. “I’m sorry” you say quietly, and your lips lightly press a kiss against my forehead. Then the door closes and I’m left alone in my rejection. I’m left alone in the reality that I am the best I can be- the best I have ever been- and you still don’t want me. You won’t even try. Because I make you feel afraid.

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Posted by on October 23, 2019 in random thoughts


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