The Forbidden Affair

The Building Tension: Anticipation and Uncertainty

Weeks turned into months, and before I knew it, I had almost been working at Pear for a year. In the time since the wedding, a lot had shifted in the dynamics at work. Caleb and I began chatting more often—not just during our shifts but also on Snapchat. Each conversation felt a bit more intimate, a little more layered, and I started to sense that our friendship was evolving.

After work, while enjoying drinks with a few coworkers, Caleb opened up about his relationship. He sat back in his chair, a serious look crossing his face as he began to explain. "You know, it's complicated," he said, swirling his drink. The casual atmosphere suddenly felt charged as he shared snippets of his life with his boyfriend.

"Here's the thing. There's different things I enjoy about sex. Having sex with a chick is very different then fucking a dude."

I was taken aback by Caleb's words. Here I was, single and enjoying my freedom, and he was sitting across from me, casually confessing that he missed having sex with the opposite gender. The implications of what he said weighed heavily in the air.

Imagine being in a relationship and having your boyfriend nonchalantly share that kind of information with his coworkers. It felt like a breach of trust, a crack in the foundation of his commitment. Did he think it was okay to express such desires so openly? I couldn't help but wonder what his boyfriend would think if he knew.

Was it really any better than wanting to cheat on someone with the same gender? The thought made me squirm. I understood that relationships could be complicated, but this was an entirely different level of emotional messiness. Did Caleb's words reveal a deeper dissatisfaction with his relationship? Or was it merely an expression of curiosity? Either way, it sent a chill down my spine. As I glanced at Johnny, who seemed equally surprised, I felt a strange mix of sympathy for Caleb and confusion about what it all meant. There was a part of me that wanted to dig deeper, to understand the nuances of his feelings, but another part that wanted to retreat from the awkwardness of it all. How was I supposed to process this?

After collecting myself for a few seconds, I decided to just ask. "What do you mean by that? What makes it so different?"

His face lit up with enthusiasm at my question. "There's just a lot more you can do with a chick. Foreplay-wise, I mean." He began to rattle off a list of things he'd do with a girl, and I felt a twinge of conflict wash over me. I hated how my mind immediately wandered to images of me and him together. But I snapped back to reality as he continued. "With a guy, you just fuck, and that's that."

His words surprised me. I had some gay friends, and they were always very open about their experiences, but they also seemed to engage in more intimate acts than just physical connection. Their boyfriends definitely didn't skip out on foreplay. I glanced at Johnny, who was visibly awkward listening to our conversation about gay sex. I could understand why; it was an unusual topic to discuss openly at work.

"Oh, come on! You can have foreplay with your boyfriend. Like, you know, finger him or give him a blowjob or something. There are definitely things you can do." I laughed before throwing out my next suggestion, "Or eat his ass—hey, to each their own!"

Caleb giggled but quickly shook his head, trying to regain some seriousness. "That's not what it's about. Look, he doesn't even want me to do that, and there's no way in hell I'm sucking dick or eating ass, thank you very much."

I was taken aback. If he was into men, why would he be so disgusted by that? His explanation continued to unravel, and I listened intently.

"When I fuck a guy, it's more about being in full control of another man than it is about being attracted to him. I can find guys handsome, but it's a different kind of attraction than how I see a girl. With girls, it's more emotional and intimate; with guys, it's more primal."