Same bed. Different contracts. He thought chemistry was the agreement. I wanted a sentence. That mismatch is how a good night becomes a whole winter.
Tag: communication
Drink can make a bad idea feel cinematic. Daylight and tea do not. I like the ones still filthy when nobody has an excuse left.
The night is not finished when you finish. Sit up. Talk rubbish. Touch my back. That quiet bit is how I decide you get another.
A good morning. A song. A nearly. Then silence for three days. I am not starving. I hate being fed in teaspoons by a coward.
Hinting is not mystery. It is cowardice with better lighting. I would rather a blunt no than a man performing confusion all week long here.
If you want sex, say sex. If you want me, say that. Lets see where it goes is a man keeping the exit door oiled.
I want the warm-up first. Then I want you to mean it. Soft the whole way through feels like you are frightened of me really.
The sex ended and the customer service started. I do not want a form. I want you to read my body and then shut up.
Say casual. Say dating. Do not hide behind we will see. I can do filthy and still want a sentence that does not wriggle away.
The practical bit was easy. The sentence after was not. People handle a condom and still panic at do you like me. That is everything.