I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to finish this story. Writing about this really hurts me physically and mentally so it’s going to take a while. But this is therapy for me. I need to vent. This is my desperate attempt to once and for all end my nightmares of my boyfriend cheating on me.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
I was too shy to tell the truth. So, instead I asked to lay on him. When he said ‘yes’ my heart jumped and during that moment of laying on him it was like a sheet of warmth had laid over my body and a marching band made a grand performance in my chest. I had dreamed many months of this moment and now it was actually reality. After a while, I got so comfortable I laid my legs onto the couch as well and I was literally laying down into his lap. My knees were bent to perfectly situate my 5’10” body frame onto the love seat and he began to rub my knees, then my thighs, then my no-no zone (I’m too embarrassed to type the ‘p’ word right now, ok?) over my pants. Every stroke getting more intense. And I gasped from how good it felt. He shushed me, whispering “shh, shh” in my ear because we didn’t want to wake out teammates. It was 5am and everyone was passed out.
Immediately upon touching my no-no zone, I thought the obvious response: “Noooooooooo”, but my body was saying “yeeessssss” and I’m horrible at self control so I went with it. No man had touched me like that for many years, many months, many days. I was thirsty.
I felt a feeling I can’t even accurately describe. It felt like an electric current had run through my body. I felt like a 15 year old girl again in Raul’s (my first boyfriend) arms getting a second chance at love. My wrinkles disappeared and so did my cellulite. My frown turned into a smile and for those few minutes- every minute I spent with him- my depression no longer existed. I regressed into the 15 year old girl I used to be; I became small in his arms. In a way, I don’t think I was so much in love with Matt because he was a horrible person, but more-so the way Matt made me feel. That’s a once in a life time feeling. A feeling so pure I can’t even describe it right now. I fell in love with who I thought he was- a nice guy- not who he really was.
He unzipped my pants and slid his thick fingers inside. Because of those thick fingers, I find myself fancying larger guys more and more. Despite my love for thin guys for many years, thick fingers are the main reason why I find myself eying bigger (I don’t really like saying “fat”) men. I almost pulled his hand back. I didn’t want him to know I wasn’t wearing underwear that day and I hadn’t shaved in weeks (dare I say months). Being celibate, I quickly learned that not shaving was the best trick to preventing myself from having sex. Why would you want to take your clothes off when you look like Cousin It underneath? It didn’t work this day though. It never worked with him. In fact, he was the reason why I shaved after all those weeks of not shaving. But I don’t think he cared that my vagina was an untamed African jungle. Despite me being his senior, I was his child that day and he was my teacher.
“It’s weird… How I won’t let you kiss me, but I don’t mind you petting my pussy.”
Kissing is always more intimate. It is the most intimate thing any two individuals can do. That’s why you never (or rarely) see porn stars kiss.
“That is weird. I really want to kiss you.”
Sold. It was just that I hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, I was afraid I would do it wrong and embarrass myself. I turned and pressed my lips against his and my body exploded. I must have did it right because he didn’t complain. I wanted to stick my tongue down his throat. I wanted to do many things, but we kept it simple and that, in a way, made it all the more exciting. Something was very exciting about fooling around with a teammate. Something was very exciting about him fingering me and kissing my nipples while I was still in my AmeriCorps uniform. And something was exciting about the fact that no one else knew what we did at night, but us.
After a while, I almost forgot he was there. I was enjoying myself so much and I felt selfish. I think he realized that because he stopped and said, “Um, aren’t you missing something?” and immediately knew he wanted me to please him too. But I was so scared. Once you do this, Courtney, there is no turning back. Do you really like him? Are you sure he won’t hurt you? Will this make things weird? All the thoughts that raced through my mind. I just sat there looking at his crotch and after a while I guess he noticed how scared I was.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“NO! I want to… I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
So, with his help, I pulled down his sweats just enough to expose a good portion of him and I just sat there in amazement. I could use this as a good opportunity to poke fun at his dick size. It’s practically written in stone that you should make fun of a guy’s dick size when he breaks up with you and a guy should call the girl a slut when she breaks up with him. But, you know, I’m better than that. I’ll just leave it with this: When you really care about someone, you don’t care what size their sexual organs are. Every little thing they do drives you mad. I didn’t care what size he was because I knew that whatever size he was, I was going to enjoy it. I played with him through my fingers, stroking in an up and down motion, using his precum as lubricant. Soon my hands with be given the nickname ‘angel hands’.
Matt is the only guy I’ve been sexually involved with who was vocal during foreplay and it always turned me on so much. If he didn’t like something, he told me. If he did, he told me that too. It’s rare to hear a guy moan from pleasure. Even in porn, men rarely moan. This was new to me and I loved it.
He felt he was about to cum so he told me to stop. So I did. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t mind if he came all over my hand. But, instead, he went to the bathroom to finish himself off and I stayed on the couch to finish myself off.
Then we went to bed.
The next day, same time, I sent him a text: “Please don’t go to bed without giving me a goodnight kiss first.”
And he didn’t. He instinctively knew to meet me at the couch without me having to say it. He sat down next to me and the t.v. was glaring in the dark once again.
“Did you tell anyone?”, I asked.
“No!”, he jumped. I was a bit disappointed, but I as well had told no one.
“I almost told Kevin…” Kevin was another AmeriCorps teammate and my best friend.
“Please don’t. If you do that, then everyone will know.”
In reality, I wanted to yell it from a mountain top like how Ron Burgundy yelled his love for Veronica Corningstone on live television. It was late, late once again and the Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson came on. A show I now hate because it reminds me too much of Matt. We heard kissing sounds in the near distance. A curious person would probably ask, “How did you know they were kissing sounds?”, but I would knew those sounds anywhere because they were the same sounds made when I kissed Matt.
Then there it was- proof. It was Kayla making out with John. Two of my other teammates who were known to have a “thing” for each other. They got closer and closer and pretty soon they were on the floor basically having sex with each other and doing things only the Lord knows behind the couch. Our couch was being invaded. This went on for several minutes and I looked over at Matt to see if he was jealous. It was no secret on the team that Matt cared for Kayla. He was very vocal about it. He was clearly jealous and he made several interjections in a desperate attempt to make them stop.
“Hey, cut it out!”, I felt bad for him. I more than anyone else knew how much it hurt to see someone you love loving someone else. And she did it right in front of Matt’s face like he wasn’t there, like he was a ghost, when she knew he liked her.
“It hurts doesn’t it? How much does it hurt to see the one you love all over someone else?”, I asked him. Little did I know, Matt would end up doing the very same thing to me with Kayla- fooling around with her in front of my face like I wasn’t there when he knew I had feelings for him. So I know how much it hurts.
“What? I don’t love Kayla… She’s just a friend.” Hearing that made me happy, but I knew it wasn’t true.
But I convinced myself otherwise because I didn’t want the truth.
For days after, this went on back and forth between us. Couch visitations are what I yearned for and, when we moved out of the building to the church near the middle school, middle school visitations are what I yearned for. But, every night, I always got the feeling I wanted more than him and in different ways. He wanted sex and I wanted a relationship. Either that, or we wanted both. I could see that he was growing impatient and annoyed with the fact that I wouldn’t have sex with him, and pretty soon I was growing impatient with keeping our meetings a secret. Every day it was a competition with Kayla for his affection. He would hit on her in front of my face like I wasn’t there and maybe in his mind I really wasn’t there.
It started small, then it got worse. Much worse.
One night, after kissing, I turned to him and asked, “Do you like me?”
And his only reply was “Yeah… I guess so.” The following night he corrected himself by saying he did like me, but it was too late. The damage was done.
But I guess it was a good enough answer for me at the time because I didn’t stop kissing him.
He was my drug. He was my high. I didn’t want that indescribable feeling to stop.