Our Way

“Confused.” I frown. “I never saw myself getting a blowjob from a guy. It just…” I shake my head as the emotions from back then flood through me. “It was never on my radar.”

“But…?”

“But I liked it.”

“Why?”

“Because it felt forbidden. Like I was being naughty and had this dark, little secret that nobody would ever know of.”

“So, it happened again?”

“Every day for a week.”

“What happened after that?”

“Feelings started to develop between us. He…” I screw up my face as I remember that time. “He got me, and I got him. We never had labels between us. It wasn’t like that because it felt natural, you know?”

Elliot steeples his hands in front of him. “What happened from there?”

“He asked me if I would be his first, and that our time together was over soon and we would never see each other again, but we would always have this. Our secret. I fucked him.”

“So, you top?”

“Always.” I clench my jaw, angered that I had to say that out loud to a complete stranger…. fuck this, I’m never coming back here again. This is mortifying.

“And that was it?”

“No, we fell in love. It was very special between us.”

He smiles softly.

“We began a long-distance relationship where we would spend weekends and every holiday together.”

He sits back and crosses his legs with his notepad and pen in his hand. “Tell me about that period of your life.”

“It was fucked.” I scratch the back of my hair, surprised by the sudden surge of anger that I feel.

“Why is that?”

“I was in a relationship so I didn’t screw around. I didn’t go out much because I hated how women would hit on me all night and I couldn’t give them an explanation as to why I wasn’t into them.”

“Were you attracted to the girls who hit on you?”

“No.”

“Were you attracted to other men during this time?”

I shake my head. “I only wanted Robert. Nobody else ever caught my eye.”

The room falls silent.

“The deal was that when Robert finished college, he was going to transfer to wherever I was working at the time. His job was transferable, mine was not.” I rub the stubble on my chin as I think back to that time.

“Did that happen?”

“No, he didn’t want to come to San Fran.”

“And you did?”