I’m Resolved Not To Fuck

Will you or won’t you give in?

My Photo of Museum Photography

A phone number calls me and I watch the name on the screen. This is the man that if I go to meet him we will find a way of fucking the other. All we need is a closed door, a small space, and he’ll find a way literally inside me.

My body aches reminiscently reminding me of my ten hour work day. Allergies cause my eyes to water and I purse my lips. It’s a give and take within me to call him back.

My clit pulses in response. In between my legs has had a certain wetness thinking about how he keeps contacting me. I’ve resisted up until this point. I dial his phone number and he picks up immediately.

“Hey, what you up to?”

“Hey back at you. You called me, what’s up?”

“Want to come meet me outside?”

“I’m kind of like a wet dog from working almost fifty hours this week.”

“Ah, damn, stay inside and chill. Don’t worry, it’s all good.”

I smile as we volley back and forth. There’s this reminder that I’ll be moving downtown soon. We won’t be neighbors anymore and I wonder if this will continue. Is the only reason that I want this man is the convenance of us fucking with our close proximity?

I know even if I try to be that woman who doesn’t have any ties that I can’t be. I inherently like him. He is the man that is the youngest that I know to ever fuck me.

He’s also intuitive, intelligent, a fiery personality that threatens to burn me alive. Yet, I love the heat of his passion, of how he fucks me so rawly. The burns from his fire that are left on my body are admired for later. I’m commonly bruised afterwards from willingly dropping down to my knees to fuck on concrete.

“Stay inside, just chill,” he reassures me again.

I’m oddly touched by him not trying to coerce me outside. I sigh and pull off my work uniform I’ve been too lazy to take off until now. The material grips onto my exfoliated skin. I run a palm over the surface and I’m incredibly soft. Just like the edges of a flower petal.

“I want to catch up with you. I’ll be right out.”

I strap on my heart rate monitor. My workout clothes are a pair of impossibly short shorts and a black tank top. I run down the stairs and I see his form pacing.

That lanky, gangly and never ending body is covered by a hoodie. He has on a sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. A baseball cap adorns and covers his face. Those saucer wide brown eyes access me as I trot over to him. I can’t help chuckling at his outfit versus mine.

“Oh my god. You’re cold, really? Look at you!” I giggle.

“Of course I’m cold. Come on with me we gotta keep moving.”

I know something is wrong. He’s high strung this time and it always is a signal with him. There’s a conversation of whether his brother is okay. If the job is working out alright. It turns out he has another that he ended up taking.

The truth eventually comes out and I can’t help shaking my head. I knew it was related to her.

“So, the ex started talking to this guy. And, I came across him and… lost it. I just lost it, I think I probably broke his cheek.”


“Yeah, I fucked up. So, things aren’t the best now.”

“We all lose it sometimes, it happens,” I say.

I’m reminded of the few times when I was younger where I lost it. And, the aftermath of what I was left with because I gave into my anger or emotions. It’s why I’ve taught myself to control them better. But, it makes it more dangerous when I do finally submit to what I’m feeling.

He plays our usual game of finding an open door for us to slide into. He pulls on door handles and I laugh at the habits we fall into.

“I’m just so exhausted that fucking is probably a no. I don’t even know how I’m out here right now.”

“Not trying to fuck you. Just trying to be out of the way so she doesn’t come across me.”

A random door opens. It’s a destroyed supply closet with newly painted walls. The fluorescent lights within the hallway flicker above. I eyeball the stripped down space. He enters it and I hesitate with following him.

If that door closes behind me somehow, someway, there will be a way that we fuck. My logical mind tells me I’m mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted to the core of my being. There’s no way any person can get me to entangle with them.

I also know fucking him will remind me what I crave about it.

My feet step into the small space. We find a workable light to flip on. The scent of new paint greets my nose. He closes the door and he leans against the wall.

We stare at each other with a mutual smirk. His face breaks into something vulnerable that I rarely see. He lets out a deep sigh and his shoulders haunch in. I know whatever he’s going to tell me I won’t like it.

“I’m joining the military. It’ll just give me more opportunities than being here. Nothing is tying me here, and then I can go back to college.”

My breath sucks in. I look at this man and try to hide my reaction. There’s a part of me that wants to yell at him that he needs to stay safe. And this is the very opposite of being safe.

Instead, I take another deep breath in. I can’t control him, and I’ll always support him.

“Don’t lose yourself in it. I have a friend that I can never get through to him. He’s just covered in layers protecting him because of what he was put through as a soldier.”

“I’m too strong to be lost in it. I’ll be okay.”

I tilt my head to the side. I want to take him in my arms and shake him. I think of the man I’ve nicknamed my Unicorn and his tremendous strength. Yet, also how it’s so impossible to get close to him.

“My friend is one of the strongest men I’ve ever met. And it’s … changed him. He’s just closed off to this world. I don’t want you to be that, to protect yourself that much.”

“It’s the young ones that lose themselves who don’t know who or what they are. I know what I am, and I know how to say no to something.”

He’s so sure of himself, that confidence in the core of who, and what he is. It’s something I’ve never met in any other twenty three year old. We talk about what degree he’d get when he goes back to college.

I can see his erection being bent to the side. It fights against his shorts and we end up talking and teasing about sex.

He challenges me how I can’t seem to get his erection fully in my mouth. As he plays with me his fingers pull off the peeling white paint from the edges of the door frame. I chuckle at what he’s doing and his eyes dart to my face. He has such a speculating, trouble making grin that it warms my insides.

“You know what you’re doing with me. Challenging me to take your erection in my mouth again. And hey, I’ve taken it fully, it’s hard but I’ve done it.

“Hmmm, I’m not doing anything. And you get close, but you don’t get the whole thing in.”

It’s a shit eating grin on his face that keeps growing. My laughter rolls and bounces off the small space we’ve willingly entrapped ourselves in. An eyebrow raises on my oval face. I push my glasses further up on the bridge of my nose.

“It’s not my fault, you’re fucking huge. And you’re one of the smartest men I know. You know what you’re doing right now. Don’t play dumb,” I say.

“If I wanted to challenge you I’d do this. And come at you, and rub this against you.”

He brings out his dick. I can’t help licking my lips in anticipation of finally seeing it. He’s already fully hard and he comes toward me. I realize this small space gives me nowhere to hide. This man corners me as he holds his dick and it presses against my uncovered leg.

He strokes it and holds it lazily. My hand is so tempted to touch it, to feel it’s soft skin encased around that rock hardness. His cum is delicious and always tingles my tongue afterwards. I want to taste him, to service him.

His face buries into my neck. He doesn’t kiss or bite the skin. I can feel his breath and his scent overwhelms me. It’s lighter today but still with that smoky edge. I realize that my resolve is crumbling.

His breath tickles my neck. It causes me to close my eyes in response to it. The rawness of this abandoned, reconstructed space fades away. I can only feel, sense, breathe in him right now.

I come back to my body and open my eyes.

“Okay, point well made, you.”

I back away from him and take a few, steadying breaths. He makes a point of having no hands and how his dick bobs up and down. I want nothing more than to be bobbing on it with my mouth. And for him to pick me up and push it inside me.

I realize that my resolve is barely holding together. And I’m not sure if this is a terrible thing.