10. when we can- hesitate

Dear T,

You asked me if I was sure too the first time we started to touch, as your hand moved down underneath my panties. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, is what you said. I wanted to laugh, the recurring nightmare of hysteria bubbling at my throat again.

You could not even fuck me later on that night, could you? You couldn’t get it up, to put it bluntly. I’m sorry, you said, I just- every time there’s a pause, I keep thinking of our history, our letters, I don’t know, I guess I feel protective of you, I want to be sure you are going to be ok, that this will be good for you.

I stared at you, unable to let the comprehension that you did not wish to continue alight. I felt appallingly thick, like a dumb animal in heat, blazing between my legs, reaching out to your cock.

I wanted to help you. You wanted none of it.

Sweet of you to try and help, you said stiffly, smiling nervously, and obviously you are not quite as shy as you seem.

You too? But you said it so nicely, with no derision. I understood because I had acted very foolish moments before, very awkward and childish, unwilling to face up and talk about where this was going to go. You were right, I was new at this.

I looked up to you so I could deal with your patronization. Though you reassured me again and again that you knew I was an adult, could make my own decisions.

Just until the next time we meet, you said, to give you time to think about it.

I understand, I told you finally, though my body doesn’t.

Let’s just sleep. I said. I figured if we were going to fuck, waiting until next time wouldn’t matter.

I was already pretty convinced that there would be a next time.