I Want to Fuck

Since It’s Going to Happen, Let It Be So

What have I done with my life?

Seriously, sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who feels this lack of control, this hunger that never seems to be completely satisfied.

I’m not made of steel.

I never was.

The flesh is weak, they say.

Mine seems to have a will of its own, a desire that sometimes I don’t even recognize as mine, but it dominates me without asking permission.

Saturday night.

That damn nightclub with lights that hide flaws and enhance virtues. The deafening music that makes you shout into each other’s ears, creating an inevitable closeness.

And he was right there, in front of me.

I didn’t know him.

Had never seen him before.

But the look in his eyes didn’t lie — he wanted the same thing I did.

The kisses started at the bar, continued on the dance floor, intensified in the dark corner. His hands explored me as if they had known me for years. And mine responded, eager, hungry.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered in my ear. I didn’t think twice.

We called an Uber. Seven minutes of waiting. An eternity when your blood is boiling in your veins. We couldn’t wait. We didn’t want to wait.