Contributor: Sam Gem
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I made love to a woman who I thought beautiful even if she didn't. After two teasy months, because I move slow and am cursed as a sensitive man, we started having sex that wasn't just sex even though she tried to keep it that way, the best sex we ever had and gave, and I went down on her and worked my jaw like a Chinese curler practicing for the Olympics until it felt like it wasn't there and gave her her first orgasm, which was quite an accomplishment, because it took two weeks of attentive sex every night after we had been flirting for a whole summer just to get her to be that comfortable with me. What I didn't know then was that this girl fucked a lot of men and had left a litter of broken hearts behind her and had separated sex and love with a butchers efficiency, and I was a fool because I fell in love with this woman and took the time to try to please her and make her happy instead of just fucking her. And even after I knew this I still tried to save her with love which was the worst thing I could've done because her perception of love was warped. The sex was so natural and organic and raw that wearing a condom was like trying to fuck around a hot air balloon and I convinced her to fuck without it, because I was a man who could control himself, even when every neuron in a man's cerebellum is firing THRUST! at the moment of orgasm, I told her I could pull out and she trusted me and I did. And she even said she loved me after I said it on one of those candle-lit lusty nights and I thought it was real because she could hardly get it out of her mouth and when she finally did after trying a few times it was a garbled mess. After this she started to ignore me and I know now she was fighting like a cornered animal and running like I was trying to chain and cage her because that's what intimacy felt like to her. Finally she hated me fiercely because there was love, it wasn't just sex and it was so obvious and so dangerous, and she became even more promiscuous just to get me out of her mind and forget that she had come so close to potentially being hurt. And two months later this woman was pregnant by another man because she trusted him to do the same thing, to pull out, like our sex wasn't special, like I wasn't special, and I didn't leave my bed for 12 days.
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Sam Gem resides in upstate New York. He writes flash fiction, short stories, and maybe a novel someday. He has a degree in Psychology, procured mostly to try and figure out what the hell happened to him.
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I made love to a woman who I thought beautiful even if she didn't. After two teasy months, because I move slow and am cursed as a sensitive man, we started having sex that wasn't just sex even though she tried to keep it that way, the best sex we ever had and gave, and I went down on her and worked my jaw like a Chinese curler practicing for the Olympics until it felt like it wasn't there and gave her her first orgasm, which was quite an accomplishment, because it took two weeks of attentive sex every night after we had been flirting for a whole summer just to get her to be that comfortable with me. What I didn't know then was that this girl fucked a lot of men and had left a litter of broken hearts behind her and had separated sex and love with a butchers efficiency, and I was a fool because I fell in love with this woman and took the time to try to please her and make her happy instead of just fucking her. And even after I knew this I still tried to save her with love which was the worst thing I could've done because her perception of love was warped. The sex was so natural and organic and raw that wearing a condom was like trying to fuck around a hot air balloon and I convinced her to fuck without it, because I was a man who could control himself, even when every neuron in a man's cerebellum is firing THRUST! at the moment of orgasm, I told her I could pull out and she trusted me and I did. And she even said she loved me after I said it on one of those candle-lit lusty nights and I thought it was real because she could hardly get it out of her mouth and when she finally did after trying a few times it was a garbled mess. After this she started to ignore me and I know now she was fighting like a cornered animal and running like I was trying to chain and cage her because that's what intimacy felt like to her. Finally she hated me fiercely because there was love, it wasn't just sex and it was so obvious and so dangerous, and she became even more promiscuous just to get me out of her mind and forget that she had come so close to potentially being hurt. And two months later this woman was pregnant by another man because she trusted him to do the same thing, to pull out, like our sex wasn't special, like I wasn't special, and I didn't leave my bed for 12 days.
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Sam Gem resides in upstate New York. He writes flash fiction, short stories, and maybe a novel someday. He has a degree in Psychology, procured mostly to try and figure out what the hell happened to him.
Author:
Sam Gem
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