It’s gonna get messy: Part 2

Wow, so it's been over two years since I wrote the first part of this story on 30.08.2020 and a lot has happened since.
So, first of all, things did in fact get VERY messy with said beautiful man, and still are to this day.

Let's flash back to two years ago when I wrote this.... We had just started fucking, I was very naive, young, and full of hope. I was practically a virgin when he fucked me, as he was my 3rd, and the 1st to ever make me actually enjoy sex. This was one of the main reasons I was so hooked on him, I had never experienced anything like this before and didn't really know how to process my feelings; it also didn't hurt that he was painfully handsome and had the accent like you hear in the movies. I should make note I am an American living in London, so I'm a sucker for the accent. We continued on fucking and texting, but as the weather grew colder his visits became less and less frequent; he would blame work, said the Christmas rush was a killer. He never spoke much about his work, but it was evident that he came from a nice family and had a good bit of money; that doesn't matter to me, but I don't come from that kind money so I only care so as not to embarrass myself in front of him. He works for one of his family's several companies, and when I asked him what he did he said 'everything'; I later found out the company is basically his, given to him by his family.

Although we were not meeting, we were still texting and sexting a couple times a week. He's not on his phone much and is a bit of a dry text-er (which he told me in the beginning) so it was mostly just checking in, me sending pics and videos, and him saying how hot they were and what he wanted to do to me, etc. Then, one day seemingly out of nowhere he messages me and asks if I have 'had any action recently'. I froze, as indeed, I had. I knew this was a pivotal moment; it was still a confusing time for me, he said he didn't want anything serious, but when we were together he didn't act like a simple hookup - he acted as though we were dating. I chose to be honest, and said yes I have had a few and asked if he had as well; he replied, 'no, I'm only seeing you at the moment'. Fuck. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I pitifully said 'ah well none of them were as good as you so!'. He laughed.

A few months go by and the next time I saw him was a few days before Christmas Day. In the past, he would come over and leave hours afterwards insisting he didn't like to sleep next to people as he had issues sleeping. He had only slept over once, in the beginning, and I swear I snored so loud and tossed so much (as I am a heavy sleeper and he is a light) that I must have put him off completely. Nevertheless, as he was preparing to come this time around, I joked that he should pack an overnight bag and stay over; he didn't reply, and I didn't take offence. The day comes around and low and behold, he comes in carrying his little duffle bag, smirking, and says 'just in case'. I grinned; he stayed that night and I thought, 'wow, maybe he's finally starting to come around'. He also said the absolute hottest line I have ever heard in my life; he layed me down on the bed, got down on his kness to give me head and acted like he was about to began, stopped, breathed in deeply, and looked me dead in the eye and said, 'do you know how long I've waited to do this?' and began. I melted. Never in my life has someone made me feel like this. As well, he had started being warmer, more playful, and remembering cute things I said I liked; for example, the first time he slept over he had issues falling asleep, so I asked if he wanted me to run my nails and fingers across his chest and arms to which he replied 'oh, is that what you'd like me to do to you?'. I simply laughed and said 'yes, I enjoy that, but I'm only asking if you'd like me to do that as that's what relaxes me and helps me fall asleep, my mother used to do this when I was a child and it still never fails.' He shrugged, and so I did; I ran my fingers across his chest gently until 5 minutes later he was asleep in my arms. Flash forward to the present, Christmas (eve, eve, eve,) and as we are laying down to go to sleep, without me asking, he begins to run his fingers across my arm and back, just as I had to him.

Next time I saw him, was again, a few months later. His visits yet again, started to drag with months in-between. I still held on to hope though, I (thought) I saw a change in him and blamed his busy work life. I even felt sorry for him and would coddle him, 'oh I understand you're very busy, I'm just happy to see you when I can.' God, I was pathetic, for this man; he had me wrapped all the way around his little finger. Now, don't get me wrong, I still had my own fun in the meantime and even took up an 'interesting hobby' (that I will touch on later), but he was always there in the back of my mind, like a security blanket of sorts. So this time he came around, I suggested that if he didn't want to wear a condom he didn't have to because I now have the BC implant and that I'm not really seeing anyone else - and haven't seen anyone else without a condom. He agreed, and said that he still was not seeing anyone else, and that he would love to. So we fucked, without. Afterwards when he came, I said 'oh you came, I didn't know' to which he replied 'oh, couldn't you feel it' I said 'no, why would I?'. This is where he asked if that was my first time fucking without; I choked, I didn't know what to answer to that. It was not my first time, but before I could even think I squeaked out "yes. and you?" Oh boy, I hated lying to him and I knew he could tell I was, but I was just so nervous and embarrassed. He laughed and said, "no obvisouly not, but I usually only do it with my girlfriends.' Silence. His eyes went wide for a second, him having realised what he said. I turned red. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I changed the subject.

Now, I am a spiritual person, and I believe that karma is one hell of a bitch. I kid you not, the literal NEXT DAY, an old FWB I had hooked-up with in November messages me and says, 'he, I just got my regular checkup and it came back positive for chlamydia. I know that was ages ago, but just letting everyone know just in case.' I wanted to throw up, because I had in fact, fucked him without a condom in November, and had completely forgotten about it. Hoping for the best, I ordered a STD test from SHL and sent it off to get the results back in about a weeks time. During this time, I began to panic. I had just told, HIM, that I wasn't really seeing anyone else and I didn't want to look like a liar or just stupid for not thinking to get tested back then. I went back and forth with myself, thinking that I've for sure given it to him and then thinking that I've seen him before now so surely he would've gotten a symptom if I had it. Five days later, I'm on my way to my therapy appointment, funnily enough, and I get the text from SHL that reads out 'positive for chlamydia'. I walked into my therapy appointment, bawling my eyes out, knowing I now had to call and tell this man that I have, in face, just given him fucking chlamydia. I started the message something like, 'hi X, so I have to tell you something and you're gonna be mad, but I promise I didn't lie to you and I understand if you never want to see me again....' and told him. He took it, surprisingly, very well, and was very nice saying it was okay, he understood, and even said 'who knows maybe I gave it to you' even though it hadn't been two weeks. He said he would get tested and keep me updated; two days later he messages me saying that his d*ck has started to hurt, so that it probably wasn't him that had given it to me. I wanted to die. My first ever STD, and surprisingly his. After we had both been treated, he said he wasn't mad and that he still wanted to see me. I thought to myself, 'dear god, I just gave this man fucking chlamydia and he still wants to see me? he must have SOME type of feelings for me', as I told anyone I had seen since November that they may wanna get tested (even though we used condoms) and some men took it very badly and got very upset.

Now, the next time I saw him was maybe 6 months later. I'm not sure really. As lockdown started to officially ease up, he still had his busy work schedule and now hectic social life. I got busy with my 'hobby', university, and going to visit my family for the first time in two years. I don't remember much about this meeting, it wasn't really significant. The sex was good, as always, but no matter how much we speak, not seeing each other for 6 months leaves a bit of distance. Things felt normal, just a bit colder, more rushed - he didn't stay too long this time. I shrugged it off, I convinced myself we were playing the 'long game' and that its been over a year now and he's still around, I felt a sense of false security.

The rest of 2021 was a shitstorm. My 'best' friend with which I lived decided she didn't like me anymore and kicked me out. So I moved, closer to the city, and by myself since I had to move quickly I had no one to move with and decided I didn't wanna take a chance on strangers. Because I was farther away, my other 'friends' slowly started being colder to me and some stopped speaking at all. On top of this, I was in my final semester of uni for my undergrad, and had my dissertation due. So, I was stressed, hurting, and very depressed to say the least. I let, HIM, know that I had moved and that he should come around soon. Now, the issue at hand was I was pretty sure I had moved near him. All this time, he would come to me saying that 'his friends didn't understand hookup culture, and that it would be too hard to explain'. Yes, I know, red flag, but I was naive and in what I thought was 'love'. He had only told me the area in which he lived, and its a big area. I had previously done an internship in this area, so I semi-knew the area and when I found the perfect flat in this area I jumped at it. I had to move quickly, I had been couch surfing for weeks, and the day after I viewed the flat the landlord said it was mine if I wanted it, but if not he had others interested, so obviously I said want it. I waited around a week after I moved in to tell him. I was sick at my stomach, afraid of what he may say. In the end I convinced myself that there's no way he lives close by, this is a huge area, and my luck genuinely cannot be that bad. Sadly, I was sorely mistaken. His response was curt, 'oh wow, where exactly do you live? oh, wow, that's actually two roads away from me.' I. fucking. screamed. How could this be happening? This was a huge area, how on earth did I actually move two roads away from him. I tried to play it off and say, 'oh that's crazy, but hey since you're close maybe you can come by more often.' He read it and didn't respond. I asked if something was wrong. He replied, 'I'm just really weirded out that you've moved, quite literally, to my doorstep.' I retaliated, 'it's not my fault, I had no idea where you actually lived, so you can't be mad at me for this.' 'I'm not mad, it's just weird.' So I pulled my usual line, the test, 'oh, so do you not wanna see me anymore?' I said this line every so often, when I felt insecure; he would always assure me that he did, and we would move on. This time, though, he said, 'I don't think so, no. I don't think it's a good idea.' I was shattered. I couldn't believe that this was actually the end, after a year and a half and becoming my new neighbour, it was finished. See, in my fucked up little head, I always thought we would end up together; him the broken man, who's ex fucked him over, and me the broken girl, who had come from a world of pain, would heal each other and live happily ever after. I replied to him, 'are you fucking serious? after all this time, you want to end this over something like this? something I had no control over?' This, is where I saw a side of him that I never had, the cold and meticulous one; 'why are you getting so upset and acting as if we are breaking up? we aren't dating. I told you, I don't want anything complicated and you moving to my doorstep is complicated. What if I were to see you while out and drunk? I don't want you to make a scene, especially after seeing your drunk texts.' I bit my lip. It's no lie, sometimes when I get drunk I'd shoot him a text, knowing he wouldn't actually come around, but just for fun. The only thing I ever really said, though, was 'I'm horny, come fuck me'. I never said or did anything that I thought was bad or embarrassing. We continued on bickering back and forth like this for a bit, over text, and he finally asked again, 'why are you taking this so harshly' to which I couldn't hold it back any longer and I said, 'because I fucking have feelings for you.' Silence. He typed and stopped and typed again for 10 minutes, when the 'oh, well.' finally arrived. I just said 'yeah, sorry,' I was sobbing my eyes out sitting in my shower surrounded by my still unpacked boxes thinking what the fuck am I going to do now. He said, 'ah well, I hope you can see how that can be an issue for me, you living so close and having feelings for me. I did ask you in the beginning if that's what you wanted and you said no...' To which I informed him, 'It wasn't my intention, and it's not my intention to cause an issue for you. I genuinely didn't know you were so close, or dream it would be this much of an issue.' It was getting late and he said he needed to go to bed as he had work early in the morning and that we could continue speaking another time. I thought it would be weeks, but, to my surprise (and dismay) after a full night's sleep he was back and prepared. He began his message with, "I don't think I made myself very clear last night, so let me try again. I have lived in this area for around 4 years now. All my friends are here and we go out in the area often, I have my life here. I do not want to introduce or bring anyone into my life and the girl who I have been occasionally fucking has moved 5 minutes away from me and just confessed that she has feelings for me. I have tried to do things like this in the past, so close, and it always ends messy so I'm not up for trying it again. It's shit, tough luck, but that's life. I wish you the best of luck and hope you enjoy the area, it's really nice.' Waking up to this, was not what I expected. I decided that since there was nothing left to lose, to ask him the one question that had been burning inside of me for a long time, 'so, do you just not want to date and have anything serious, or is it that you don't want that with me.' A risky and loaded question, I know, but I thought since we're about to block each other anyway may as well know. He replied, 'ah, I do go on dates sometimes but they never lead anywhere. I guess I would if the right person came along. Ahhh I guess you just have a different personality type than what I'm after, too different from me.' Wow, that hurt a lot more than I was expecting. I thanked him for his candor, and wished him the best.

For the next two months, I held my breath every time I walked down the street. I cringed at everyone who passed by me, keeping my head down and walking as fast as I could, often crying when I got back home. I thought everyone looked like him, and I was terrified of running into him. I had made a fool out of myself, and had embarrassed myself to the point of no return. I'm not a touchy emotional person, I usually don't share my feelings (out of the fear of being hurt, due to circumstances in the past) and felt naked since I had shown him this vulnerable side of myself for him to react how he did. On top of all this, friends all still being shit, and starting a master's program I fell heavily back into my depression and anxiety and coped the only way I knew how - heavily with drugs, alcohol, and sex. I binged these two months, I don't remember much except that there were many nights I sat holding myself, full blown panic attack, wondering how I got here. I was back at one of the lowest points in my life; not just because of him, but at the fact of how everything fell out from under me at once, and he was my 'security blanket'.

Now, I feel is a good time to circle back around to my "interesting hobby". You see, after I had good sex for the first time I realised that I, really like sex and that I want to have a lot of it. It was, and still is, a stress reliever for me. So, after fucking him and realising that I really really like sex (as I had starting thinking I may be a lesbian at this point) I started having lots of it. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, Thursday (as of late) I tried them all. I quickly learned what I like and that it was difficult to find that in men my age. The man in question of this story, is 4 years older than me, which isn't much but he acts like it is. So in the middle of my tinder sex-scapades I had a suggestion from a friend. You see, even when I was a virgin, I had dabbled with being a "sugar baby". Blame my daddy issues, but I've always liked older men and being taken care of, so it's a win-win. I eventually had a friend suggest that I try escorting. Now, my initial response was 'god no, I'm not a prostitute' to which she replied, 'it's no different than what you're doing now, it's just stigmatised.' I thought about this, and realised that in actuality she really wasn't wrong. I was a struggling uni student at the time and said ah fuck it, let's give it a go and 'kill two birds with one stone'. It wasn't easy to get into at first, as you have to be very smart and very cautious, but after time I got the hang of it. Found the guys that I liked meeting and helped pay bills along the way. It's just crazy to look back and think that when I first came to London three year ago, I was a virgin, and now I'm doing this and I consider myself to be quite good. I'm very competitive, I like to be good at things, and I feel I can say I'm very good at sex. I know he must have wondered what happened, as every time we fucked he would actually say, 'well, you've gotten better at that'. I obviously never told him, it wasn't his business, and I saw no point. SW is very heavily stigmatised and frowned upon, even though its very common. I've never been ashamed of it or felt 'dirty' except, for things people have said about it; it is only other people who make me feel dirty, not the act itself - as 9 times out of 10 the men make me come and want to (a rarity in these Tinder days).

After about two months, I started to feel better. I could walk down the street a little slower, the sun started coming back out, and winter slowly started to thaw. I thought, finally, I've almost got his claws out of me, and I'll be fine. This is where I, with not one ounce of dignity, fucked up. The day was my birthday, 23. None of my 'friends' showed up for the dinner reservation, except one, so I decided to get very drunk. I had been thinking about him lately. Not in the 'I miss you I want you back' kind of way, but just unresolved. I hadn't liked how we ended, I knew I had come across stronger and crazier than I had meant to. He broke my heart that day, and with that he broke that innocent part of me with feelings for him. One think I had noticed over the past couple months, though, is that when I posted on snapchat, he was always one of the first to view it. Now, keep in mind, he told me in the early days he never used it that he was too old but use it with me if I'd like. So, this left me confused - why would someone who proclaims not to use snapchat be one of the first to always view my stories? So at the end of the night, of my birthday, I said to myself, 'fuck it, he's not gonna be mean to you on your birthday. It's been two months, what do we have left to lose? If it goes south, I'll finally block him this time.' You see, after we had our argument in December I considered blocking him and letting that be that; I still held out hope, though, and decided to leave it open. I message him saying, 'hello X. I think we both overreacted; I still want to fuck you, and I know you do me. I'm sorry, can we start over?' Only a few minutes go by, and I feel my phone ding. I look, to see that sure enough, he has messaged me back. I'm sitting in the back of this Uber, heart in my throat, thinking 'fuck I didn't expect him to reply this soon.' I waited a few minutes to calm my shaking hands to open the message, 'hello, yes I think we did. I would like to see you :)'. Well, Jesus H Christ, that sure was NOT the response I was expecting. I didn't know what to say, I just sat there thinking 'what the fuck does this mean'. We caught up, briefly and he said he figured he'd be free soon. I went to bed that night, with a smile on my face feeling a sense of relief.

I made an agreement with myself that this time would be different, actual FWB, no emotions. The winter spent alone and all that transpired during it made me colder, sharper, so this time would be different I wouldn't chase and coddle him - I would keep the upper hand this time. See, in my coldness, I found a love for 'the game' and it would be the ultimate feeling of redemption to turn the tables on him this time. To my surprise, it was him that chased after me at first. Only a few days after my drunken birthday text, he asked me to meet. I was taken back. I would've loved to, but at the time I received his message I was currently at the sexual health clinic being treated for a case of chlamydia that I had received recently from being drugged and assaulted on a date. Now, obvisouly, I wasn't going to tell him this, so I just said I wasn't free. I let him know I was going on holiday in a few weeks time, early March, and that maybe I could meet the week before or after. I wanted to finish my treatment, as good god can you imagine giving the may chalmydia twice?

I didn't really think too much on him, figured we would get around to it eventually, and was very nervous as like I said earlier I felt I had exposed my vulnerable side to him, when I said I had feelings for him. Two days before my trip, 4AM I was drifting between sleep and consciousness when I got the sudden urge to check my phone; surely enough, two messages from HIM. I halfway thought I was dreaming, so I opened it to see, 'hey, I know its late but are you still up?' I wrote back, "I am yes :)". He asked if I had been out that evening and I said no and asked if he had, to which he said, 'yes' that he had just gotten back in. He then said, 'wouldn't it be weird if I came over a bit drunk with you sober?' I told him I wasn't really bothered either way, and sent him some of my new nudes for him to sort himself out with for the evening. I was just about to roll over and go to sleep, when he replied, 'fuck. actually, if you don't mind, I really would like to come over.' I just said 'sure' and he let me know that he would be here in 15 minutes. Now, keep in mind, I become fully awake at this point and start shouting, 'WHAT THE FUCK' on repeat only just now realising what this means. I was in bed, no makeup, messy clothes, I don't even know if I was shaven or prepared. I just had enough time to tidy my flat and fix myself to not look asleep when I get the message, "I'm here." I was shaking, I could feel my heart in every part of my body. I hadn't seen him in 8 months, and honestly didn't ever think I would see him again, so to know he was standing right outside my door - pure adrenaline coursed through my veins. My brain likes to play a trick on me when I "like" someone (though it probably is just another defence mechanism) that I can't quite picture how they look or how they sound in my head when I try to, so I was curious to look upon him with new eyes and see if I still felt the same. I opened the door and sure enough, as always, he stood there looking handsome as ever - though slightly more disheveled than I had ever seen him. He smiled and leaned in for a hug echoing, 'long time no see'. I laughed oh so nervously and asked how drunk he was to which he replied, 'not that drunk'. We went inside and sat down both kind of awkwardly, until he leaned forward and kissed me. We went between speaking and making out, and I remember thinking, 'why does he taste sour, the tase is familiar but I can't quite put my finger on it?' Until after about 5 minutes and I noticed that my entire face was numb, did I come to the realisation. I pulled away and looked him dead in the eyes and said "X, have you been doing coke tonight?" He, quite surprisedly, said "yes, actually, how did you know?" To which I informed him that whatever he's been doing is strong enough that I am now fucking soaring just from the contact. His face went pale. He began apologising, 'I'm so sorry, I had no idea it would do that I last did it a while ago." I, now having gained my confidence back thanks to this buzz, told him I didn't care and promptly got on top of him and began kissing him. The rest, is a bit of a blur; I don't remember doing anything differently than I had in the past, but as I went down on him he stopped me and said, "wow, you're being a bit more dominant tonight which is something I'm not usually into, but I really like this." I smiled and continued on. After a bit we decided to fuck, he asked if he should wear a condom and I said, "ah well fuck it". We began to fuck, but it became very quickly apparent that due to his drink and drug usuage, it would not be possible. He became VERY embarrassed stating that he does this all the time and that he has NEVER not been able to preform. I wasn't really bothered, and assured him that it happens, oh well. He stayed and cuddling for a bit, and left about 6 in the morning.

After this encounter, he went back to his old ways - being distant, saying he wants to come around and apologising for being so shit at coming around, and then not coming. I wasn't really bothered this time, though, things felt different and I thought, 'I can live with this, whatever happens, happens."

Now, as I'm writing this, about 6 months after that encounter, we have not met again. We have spoken, for a bit we went back to weekly or bi-weekly. About a month ago, he messaged me to inform me that he was in fact moving out of the area, but that he still hoped to come see me. A few weeks ago, even messaged me saying he thought he would be free and be able to make it to see me; that never happened, though. About two weeks ago, I messaged him to see if he thought he'd be free. He didn't open it for 4 days, but yet again continued to be one of the first views on my stories. I thought to myself, "we are not doing this again" and vowed to myself that if it went 1 week unopened, I would bite the bullet and block him, but like I said it only went on for 4 days. It was 6 in the morning when the message came through, although I did not see it until around lunchtime the next day. Upon opening it, I noticed, it was a huge paragraph. I though, 'ah well, here we are again, he's gonna say he's changed his mind.' It was not this, though it was strange; he started off by again saying, 'I'm sorry im so shit at meeting up, I know I'm quite bad' but then went on to say, 'I've had an experience recently and I want to explore more of myself sexually and I'm not sure if this will fit what you're looking for, I'm sorry for not saying sooner.' So I went on to ask, 'what is It you want to explore?', he then explained that he had been to a party about a month prior where he met a hot girl who cucked him (forced him to watch as she fucked another man) and that she was generally more dominant in the bed with him, so he'd like to explore his submissive side; he didn't think I would be into this, since I was always more submissive. I found this very frustrating, remembering the last time we fucked it was ME who introduced him to this. So, I very bluntly explained this to him, reminding him of the last time, letting him know that I had in fact been dominant with men in the past, and that the only thing I was looking for out of him was good sex and that if he could provide that, then I didn't mind helping him explore what he wanted. Silence. Opened, and off and on again typing for 30 minutes. I realised, I had been more curt in this message than he is used to, so I figured I had made him mad. His reply, "oh, well, I guess maybe we can try it sometime." I replied to him saying, "oh, well, I guess and maybe doesn't sound like you actually want to, and I'm not gonna force it. You're a good fuck, so I'm down for trying but if not oh well." Again, opened, typing, 10 minutes later I get the generic, "I'm quite busy and still looking for a place to move, so when I'm back in London maybe." I just said, "yeah, sure, maybe." And that was that.

It's been about two weeks now, and I think this time, I may actually not see him again. Even if he messages me, I'm undecided if I want to go down that rabbit hole again. He will always be special to me, and he always be in my memory as many of my "firsts", but I feel disgusting after speaking to him now. The way he spoke to me in December, the things he said out of cruelty, to hurt me, and yet I still went back, seeking him out. I'm disappointed in myself that I have such little self-respect for myself. I'm doing better now, got used to the area, got better friends, got the mental health support I needed, so the thought of it actually being over this time is less earth shattering to me, and more a sweet/sad nostalgia of the past 2 years and three months and the remembrance of a more innocent girl, with her heart on her sleeve and the world at her feet.

I know this ended up being the equivalent of a small novel, and I know there is a high chance that you all are slut-shaming me in your head or turning your noses up in disgust, but a lot happens in two years time, this is life, and I wanted to tell the full raw story blemishes and all.