I had an experience the other day that prompted me to send a voice note to a friend that just said ‘Oh my god … oh my god. Oh my god. I don’t even know what to say, just … oh my god’ And my poor friend ended up writing back, Are you okay? Are you safe? Which, fair. There a lot of different ways to interpret that bizarre voice note.

Let me start at the beginning.

I have this person in my life. I’ve written about him before and there’s something about him that seems to be equal parts frustrating and can’t get enough of him for me. We met, I immediately wanted more. He still does not want more from me. But we have the most insane sexual chemistry and I know that I 100% will end up hurt whenever our situationship comes to an end but I’m still hoping that when that time comes I’ll have no regrets. We shall see.

We’ve met up many times. After our first date, we met briefly in a Waterstones where he wore this polo shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes in this way that I actually dreamt about him just standing there smiling at me, wearing this light blue shirt. I’m ridiculous. And in the dream and him actually standing in front of him the look was pretty great.

He and I never seem to have great availability with each other. But then we managed to meet up twice in a short period of time for a walk in a nearby park and I discovered that properly kissing him feels like an addiction to me. I love kissing just generally but with him? Good lord. It was fire. Just kissing him had me unravelling. All my inhibitions seemed to have fled me all at once and I became this writhing, needy person. It felt like I was in heat, that I wanted him with this fiery passion. Did I actually end up throwing myself into his lap, grinding myself against his erection, pressing myself as close to him as I could possibly get? Yes, yes I did. Did it happen more than once? Also yes.

After that we went through a period where we didn’t meet for ages. And I thought perhaps all the fire between us burnt out and that’s where things might end? But because we still messaged most days there seemed to be this ‘maybe’ around us. And it happened that things aligned and we met somewhere with a bed. With space to stretch out. To enjoy each other’s nakedness. With more kissing, more touching. All the orgasms. But a thing happened. And it happened twice. That he showed up with no condoms. And I felt like crying both times. Like, here we are, how are we not making the best use of our time? Which isn’t to say that I didn’t enormously enjoy myself. I did. I do every time with him.

He’s very focused on my pleasure so it’s hard not to enjoy myself when my enjoyment seems to be the purpose. But also, there’s a special kind of feeling for me having his cock in my mouth that I actually love. Hearing his pleasure gets me so turned on. As I imagine hearing mine turns him on. But as ever, I always want more.

So by the time this thing happens the other day, I’m almost resigned to the fact that this man will both satisfy me entirely and also leave me wanting at the same time. It’s a fine line to walk but somehow he manages it with such skill. So we’re naked on the bed, and I’m sitting in almost a V position, my legs hooked over his hips, one of my hands on his chest, the other around his neck pulling him in closer for all the kissing. When he pulls away from me to ask, ‘what do you want?’ my reaction is immediate. I lose all the tension in my body, flop down on my bed and with the biggest sigh in the world, say very honestly ‘I’ve never wanted someone to fuck me as badly as I want you to fuck me’

I’m almost amazed at how brazen I am. But it’s been almost a year and it’s never happened. I don’t think I’m unfair at all in what I said, even the dramatic way in which I said it. But he absolutely astonishes me by saying ‘you want me to fuck you? okay’ and gets up to fish a condom out of his jeans pocket. And I swear to you, I feel like I died on the spot. Or at some point in the next however long he fucked me. Because it’s something I’ve thought about for so long. I even wrote poetry about what it would be like to have sex with this man. And the reality of it? The reality of it was a million times better. Every movement he made, every look he gave me, that he turned his head and kissed my calf at one point. Everything about it felt like my entire universe was shifting and we were creating a new reality right there in that spot.

Which is why the moment he walked out of the door, I couldn’t say anything but ‘oh my god’ over and over again. Please god, let it happen again.