... who didn't want to date me because of my hypopigmented skin but didn't see any problem with fucking me.
We hooked up once more and discussed a possible friends with benefits situation. I was ambivalent. On one hand, it was easy, available sex. On the other hand, the sex was so technical and completely devoid of emotion that I didn't know if it was worth it. He was a fun, intelligent guy who I was attracted to, but I was starting to lean more towards "friends" and away from "benefits."
I went to the gym one Saturday morning, and we talked about going on a run together after. I arrived at his place wearing yoga pants and sweaty from my previous exercise class, ready to keep the workout going. He invited me in and before I knew it started kissing me and maneuvering his hands over my sports bra.
It was the least sexy I'd felt in a long time. I hadn't shaved, hadn't showered, was wearing underwear from the day before, and had just finished an intense workout session. I told him no, that I felt unclean and not comfortable enough to have sex. I wanted to stop. He kept teasing me, kissing my neck, moving his fingers down below. I said no again. He didn't stop. I was physically excited, he could tell, but my heart wasn't in it. After a bit of back and forth, me resisting and him persisting, my voice became more firm. "I really don't want to do this. I don't feel right. I'm saying no."
His response? "Well, do you want to suck my dick?"
YES!!! How did you know? That is what I've been dying to do all day! Nothing fulfills me more than sucking the penis of a man who I'm not dating. Did they teach you that when you got your master's degree in social work?
I said I was leaving, and he became upset: "I just don't see why people can't get their act together about sex! We're both single. We're both having a horrible time dating. We have a good time together. Why is sex such a big deal?"
I had been very polite until this point, but my patience wore thin as my voice grew louder. "I DO have my act together about sex. I'm saying no. That doesn't mean I don't have my act together. It means I don't want to have sex with you."
He sighed and then spent the next hour telling me about how frustrated he was with sex, with dating, with race. I didn't care at this point but I sat there and listened to him process everything out loud. He asked me if I understood what he was saying and I said yes, even though I had tuned out long before. I had made my point clear, and he was free to do what he wanted with the information.
A sixty-minute diatribe later he paused, and I said I was leaving. I walked out, which I should have done an hour before, and left him to contemplate why I wasn't sucking his penis.
The stereotype that women need to process relationships and don't want to let go while men move along easily is a stereotype I wish to counter. When this same man sent me a text message last July, the morning after we had sex, telling me he didn't want to date me, I said no problem. When he called me seven months after sending that text to ask for a favor, I said sure. When he invited me over a month later and told me he didn't want to date white women but would gladly hook up with me, I went with the flow. Then, when I told him I didn't want to be "friends with benefits," we had to have an hour long powwow about our feelings?
I told a man who I'm not dating that I didn't want to have sex. How did that turn into an hour long counseling session?
We hooked up once more and discussed a possible friends with benefits situation. I was ambivalent. On one hand, it was easy, available sex. On the other hand, the sex was so technical and completely devoid of emotion that I didn't know if it was worth it. He was a fun, intelligent guy who I was attracted to, but I was starting to lean more towards "friends" and away from "benefits."
I went to the gym one Saturday morning, and we talked about going on a run together after. I arrived at his place wearing yoga pants and sweaty from my previous exercise class, ready to keep the workout going. He invited me in and before I knew it started kissing me and maneuvering his hands over my sports bra.
It was the least sexy I'd felt in a long time. I hadn't shaved, hadn't showered, was wearing underwear from the day before, and had just finished an intense workout session. I told him no, that I felt unclean and not comfortable enough to have sex. I wanted to stop. He kept teasing me, kissing my neck, moving his fingers down below. I said no again. He didn't stop. I was physically excited, he could tell, but my heart wasn't in it. After a bit of back and forth, me resisting and him persisting, my voice became more firm. "I really don't want to do this. I don't feel right. I'm saying no."
His response? "Well, do you want to suck my dick?"
YES!!! How did you know? That is what I've been dying to do all day! Nothing fulfills me more than sucking the penis of a man who I'm not dating. Did they teach you that when you got your master's degree in social work?
I said I was leaving, and he became upset: "I just don't see why people can't get their act together about sex! We're both single. We're both having a horrible time dating. We have a good time together. Why is sex such a big deal?"
I had been very polite until this point, but my patience wore thin as my voice grew louder. "I DO have my act together about sex. I'm saying no. That doesn't mean I don't have my act together. It means I don't want to have sex with you."
He sighed and then spent the next hour telling me about how frustrated he was with sex, with dating, with race. I didn't care at this point but I sat there and listened to him process everything out loud. He asked me if I understood what he was saying and I said yes, even though I had tuned out long before. I had made my point clear, and he was free to do what he wanted with the information.
A sixty-minute diatribe later he paused, and I said I was leaving. I walked out, which I should have done an hour before, and left him to contemplate why I wasn't sucking his penis.
The stereotype that women need to process relationships and don't want to let go while men move along easily is a stereotype I wish to counter. When this same man sent me a text message last July, the morning after we had sex, telling me he didn't want to date me, I said no problem. When he called me seven months after sending that text to ask for a favor, I said sure. When he invited me over a month later and told me he didn't want to date white women but would gladly hook up with me, I went with the flow. Then, when I told him I didn't want to be "friends with benefits," we had to have an hour long powwow about our feelings?
I told a man who I'm not dating that I didn't want to have sex. How did that turn into an hour long counseling session?
No comments:
Post a Comment