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Writer's pictureBetty Sullivan

Pleasing Her, Pleasing Me (A 10 Page Love Story)

I had to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t a dream as she led me to the bar and ordered two shots of Fireball. We downed them and waited outside for our Uber to arrive. “Does this happen often?” I asked, but not thinking how shitty it must have sounded.

She giggled. “Taking random men home from the bar?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like it sounded. You are just so gorgeous and I go to the bar all the time. This has never happened to me before.”

“I am depressed as fuck and I don’t want to be alone. You seemed different. Like I said before, you bought me drinks and didn’t even try to talk to me. It was really refreshing.”

“Was the bathroom like a test?”

“You are a funny man. You struggle with depression too and a terrible self image.”

I turned my head away, but her hand caught my chin, pulling me back. She looked deep into my eyes. “You are a good guy. Don’t let these bitches treat you like shit. Women are the worst at running over a guy that has a good heart.”

She kissed me. Her lips were full of empathy and I felt in that moment she could heal all my wounds. I didn’t expect all this and honestly; it felt overwhelming. She kissed down my neck and I shuddered in pleasure. Part of me wanted to break down. She had opened me up in a way that I had never experienced. The kindness that emanated from her soul gave me hope that another girl in a different life would be this way toward me.

She was right. Women had been cruel to me most of my life. I had been ignored and when noticed whipped with their toxic anger. I knew this wasn’t anything more than a one-night stand, but I couldn’t help but feel the hope even as my heart warned me to keep it closed and insulated.

On the Uber ride, I didn’t even notice the driver. We were wrapped in each other’s arms searching for meaning in the embrace. We were both broken people, desperate to fill the hole that had left us needing something deeper. “You are worthy of love.” She whispered in my ear.

She touched my face with her fingers, outlining the weathered skin. “You are a beautiful soul.” The angel kissed me, pushing past my skin and into the veins. I longed to capture these moments. I wanted to put them in a bottle and bring them out when I was alone.

Alone. It would happen to us again. It never worked out for us. Men with hands and cock would promise her the world over and over, never to deliver. Their cum would lather her perfect body, but they would only see her as an object. I would go back to my one-room apartment where I would work my ass off only for it to be swallowed up by my sadness.

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