I waited and willed the read receipt to appear below my message for the 10th time today and sighed in relief when it did a moment later but panicked to quickly get off messenger before he replied and it showed I read it immediately.
It was silly I know but I didn't want him knowing I spent the time between replies staring at the text message and waiting. I don't even know why I held my breath waiting as I just had been doing. Every time my thumb hit send my anxiety spiked as if to say "This is it, he won't read or respond to this one. He will never text me again and he will ghost me."
I don't even know where these unfounded fears stemmed from. He never did anything to suggest that he was losing interest. I'm also not traumatized by any past guys, I've never gotten ghosted before and for some reason I only felt this way with him. I never panicked like this before. The feeling was suffocating as if I was drowning in anxiety waiting for the moment he would suddenly lose interest.
What was different this time? Was it the sex? I thought I had good sex before, I'm certain of it, but although it was different and greater I didn't think any level of amazing sex could bring me to show such an anxious clingy side of myself. Was it how I felt about him? It all had started off as just a fuck but it quickly became evident that feelings for him were surfacing at a rapid pace and I knew he didn't feel the same at all. Maybe that was the anxiety of it all. I knew he didn't want or care for me in that way and it made me feel like I couldn't get ahold of him. It made me feel like I was holding something that would be slipping through my fingers at any moment.
The problem was although his word were clear as day and he repeated his stance over and over his actions never matched his words. His mouth said "I only want sex" but his body pulled me close to cuddle and fall asleep in his arms. His body took me to dinner and went on weekend vacations with me. The only time his actions matched his words were when he was drunk. A habit he struggled with. Once in a while he would cave and FaceTime me in the middle of the night begging me to come to him. Spewing word vomit about loving me and telling me how perfect I was.
He told me the next day sober that those were all lies and I shouldn't trust him drunk but my heart still clung to the hope that drunk words really were sober thoughts.
My phone buzzed me out of my thoughts and I looked at the screen to read his reply. Come over tomorrow night?
Sure I texted back. The response looked so much more nonchalant than the pit in my stomach actually felt. That was the goal though, don't show him the desperation. Hide the panic. Cover up the anxiety.
The time was set and I couldn't wait. It was only noon and I knew no work would get done. All my thoughts would be consumed by him until tomorrow night. It was borderline unhealthy and I couldn't stop it no matter how hard I tried.
—————
I pulled up to his apartment the next night as usual. On the surface calm and ready but underneath I could barely contain my excitement. Knowing we were going to be physically close always calmed all my anxiety. It was like a drug. Once I took a hit I would be fine, my anxiety would disappear. I needed it.
I'm down stairs. I text.
His read and reply is almost instant as if he was just waiting for it the same as I do. He always was so quick to reply when he knew I was coming. I smile, he always made me feel wanted even if his words contradicted it.
I'm coming down now. He replied.
The energy inside calmed as I read the message. He would be here in seconds. I couldn't let him sense my excitement.
It wasn't long before the buildings automatic doors opened and out he walked. This man somehow looked so handsome to me. It wasn't always like this. He wasn't a bad looking guy by any means but he wasn't all that either. But now it's like my eyes were filtered. No other man compared no mater how much I tried to look elsewhere. His dark hair always neatly cut, his fade so smooth and perfectly melting into his beard. A beard that he had trimmed shorter to my liking which only made it harder for me to dislike him. I only looked at him for a second and the excitement rose up again but I stomped it down simply by giving him a chill "hey" with a side hug completely undercutting the emotions raging inside of me at the sight of him.
He reciprocated the hug and hey then added in a kiss on the lips. Smiling down at me he lead the way into his building and up to the 12th floor. I don't know what it was but he never held my hand on the way to his apartment. Only drunk would he cling to me in the elevator. I was never sure if I was welcome to reach for his hand either. It saddened me that I felt this barrier. Why did it feel fine to kiss in the lobby down stairs but this wall seemed impenetrable. Just like with the text I felt like if I were to reach out a hand right now he wouldn't accept it. He wouldn't hold it back. He wouldn't keep it. I couldn't stand the idea of that rejection so I didn't close the gap and make any attempt to see if my fears would come true.
Once the door was closed I only took enough time to take off my shoes and we were in his bedroom like always. That barrier shattered once more as we sat in his bed and suddenly like a safe place where I felt the green light to touch again. We turned on the tv and no space was between us as I cuddled up close to him. As always he started of stiff but warmed up and started speaking more as the hour passed. I still didn't understand why we did this. If his goal was sex why the tv and talking. He knew I would be down to start as soon as I walked through the door yet he always waited. Some questions I always wanted to ask I never did because sometimes I felt like I was putting too much thought into things and he would look at me like he didn't know what the heck i was talking about. So I held my tongue. It wasn't that important to know the answer.
The fun was about to begin anyways. I was getting hard just thinking about the possibility's to come. Who would top who? I loved being shoved into the mattress and fuck and told what a little slut I was and to shut up when I got too loud but I loved the other side equally as much. Watching him try to slide down on my cock as he tried to ride me. He wasn't bottom as often so it was always a bit more work to get there.
Well we would just have to find out. I face him turning away from the television to deliver a searching kiss. It could have been spoken allowed and the question wouldn't have been nearly as obvious. He read my kiss loud and clear as he kissed me back but didn't take control. I smiled big into the kiss. The fact that topping was rare made it all the more exciting. I moved from his lips to his ear making sure to get into the mindset and choose my words perfectly to get his best reaction.
Once in his ear I flicked my tongue over the edge and deepened my voice an octave. "You want to be my little slut tonight? That's unusual. Did you prepare that tight as for my cock?"
