the life and musings of a kinky slut

Doing Better

Gent wants us to be better friends to each other.

Gent values the ten years we’ve been a part of each other’s lives more than his current new relationship.

Gent won’t date me. The power imbalance between us, his knowing how much I want to please him, doesn’t sit right with him.

He thinks we shouldn’t fuck, but as I was three steps away from exiting his home he pulled down my skirt slid his dick inside me. We fucked in the entryway in his home, then up on his couch.

“I guess we’re friends who fuck,” he said after pulling out to cum on his carpet and not inside me.

I like picking at his brain, asking him questions and hearing his sideways answers. I like understanding, or trying to understand him, a little more each time we see each other.

His not dating me got me angry. His canceling on me last minute got me angry. His plan for a phone call that never happened got me angry. When he cited his reasoning for not dating me during our rescheduled meetup, I broke my baseline pleasing facade for three minutes, actually speaking my raw unfiltered feelings. He wants more of that. I don’t know if I like that unguarded me.

I don’t know what I want. I sometimes think I want a husband and kids. And then I hear a five year old whining to their mother about not getting to buy something at Target and I rethink all my assumptions.

He asked me how I saw our future. I said I could think of two scenarios. One, I stay single and stay fucking him as a friend. Two, I find someone like him, but not him, and then we are friends who don’t fuck.

He said he could see himself being my friend and fucking me long term, no matter his relationship status otherwise. He pondered on how we would be in each other’s lives if and/or when we have married spouses. He values our friendship more than I realized and wants to sustain it. This broke my brain for a moment. He’s really good at doing that.

I like having a place that is my own. I like fucking someone and then they leave. Lately they’ve left before I want them to, but that’s cause I’m greedy for cock and not some deep seated emotional bullshit. I like the idea of occasional sleepovers, but permanent residence bothers me in a way that is difficult to articulate beyond, “I like my shit how I like my shit and I don’t feel like sharing or compromising on it.” Maybe this will change as I grow into my career. Or maybe I will only get more independent and start an actual rotation of dick appointments. We’ll see.

But I do know it is my hope that Gent and I will remain in each other’s lives, hallway sex or not.

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