We were lying in bed watching T.V., your head on my chest. I tried to say something cute so you?d look at me with pursed lips and I?d steal a kiss. I could see that it worked, but you put up some resistance; played hard to get. I played your game. Flipped you onto your back, got on top and said, ?I guess I?ll just have to take it then.? I put my lips onto yours and my hand under your shirt. I didn?t go straight for the breasts, just rubbed your stomach a little. Sometimes I scratched.

I let my hand wander under your pajama bottoms and in between your legs. You didn?t stop me. We continued to kiss, more heavily now as things looked to turn into a night of bare asses. You stopped both the kissing and my hand and took off both bottoms. I looked into your eyes and you gave me that ?this isn?t rape, this is totally consensual? look but I didn?t have a condom. I told you this and you said you wouldn?t do it without one. So you made me to go the store and get a pack. I obliged.

But on my way to the store I couldn?t help but curse to myself that type of practicality. The spontaneity and passion and lust and raw animal instinct, gone. But sex is sex I guess, and I wanted your body pressed up onto mine. I decided on the 12 pack. Shoot for the stars they say. When I got back and opened the door, I forgot all about that passion bullshit I seemed so "passionate" about.

I had a huge grin on my face. It was time to fuck. The T.V. and light were off and the room pitch black when I stepped through the door. I flipped the switch and I was alone. I was alone because you weren?t there. Or maybe you were never there at all. Maybe all I had in my hand was a bag of Doritos and a Snapple. I don?t know anymore.