Dolorian

I drove to Hampton Beach last Thursday for a tinder date. The boy Dorian was cute, from Dover, a passionate surfer. He spent his childhood on a boogie board in the cold east coast Atlantic, named his cat Wing, and has a giant Octopus tattoo on his arm. These are the things I learned before asking baby-daddy to lend me his new car and driving the hour north to meet up. The plan was to surf — for the first time in my life. I was so excited.

Dorian and I messaged for a week before the occasion. We started chatting casually, topics swerving from basic information to his “obsession with my face.” I smiled and thought that maybe I was meeting someone meant for me. Given my history of terrible relationships and the fact they all had lasted less than a year, I believed love could just click with zero logic at any given moment.

His apartment was 50 square feet, with no room for a bed (he slept on a couch), but beautifully put together, hosting accents of seashells and a fishing spear. He told me stories about catching lobsters and building surfboards — how he loved to work with his hands. He fancied himself a man of nature, and had the deeds to prove it, not like those urban lumbersexuals who sat in front of a screen all day.

So we started making out. I told him easily that I wasn’t going to have sex with him. “We can’t surf it’s too dangerous,” he told me.

Time passed. I was on top of him. “I love you,” he said. I just laughed. I submerged in my own extreme freeze.

I took it in. Fooling with my shirt he said, “I’m going to marry you. You need me in your life. You need me in your son’s life.” He had drawn my three year old son a beautiful picture of an airplane, Leon’s favorite: JetBlue.

Then things got rough. He drew my head backwards over the arm of the couch and put his cock so far in my mouth I was gagging. I shifted around but he held me to him and shoved it deeper.

We kept going. He slapped my face, hard. He told me he wanted to come inside me, or — fine — on my face.

When it ended, he had come on my chest, we were soaked in sweat. “We should shower.” He said.