Sometimes I feel like I have power over half of the men on Earth, the power that comes from knowing they want me. The look, they chat me up, they let their eyes wander a little below my chin when I talk to them. I have something they want. And I have to be very responsible which of them I give it to.
Because I want it too. That's no secret to you, readers. I have a pretty damn healthy sexual appetite, and I've been starving myself for months -- almost a year! -- because I don't like the idea of having sex with someone I don't totally love. The last time I did that, with my first partner Leo, I felt pretty bad about it.
It's just that, if I hold out for someone who can be my everything, I might be waiting a long time, I might drive myself nuts with desperation, I might cling to them. I totally get why one-night stands are an option. They're just not one I feel good about.
Nameless Boy -- as he shall be called to protect him from embarrassment -- is a special case. He's told me that he likes me, that he's been carrying a torch for a while, unbeknownst to me, and that it was only at my farewell party that he got the nerve. I didn't see anything in him but an opportunity for some escape, some fun, some distraction. He was my attempt at a one-night stand. If I'd known he was a virgin, I might have slowed down a little, but we've all got to start somewhere.
I like him fine. As in, I can put up with him. I don't mind hanging out with him. I'm really not sure how I feel beyond that. I've been spoiled a little bit, with Buddy and Alex, but my memory of both of them is tainted somewhat, too. If I want to get laid, he would be my best option, although for obvious reasons I have not told him this. We've talked a bit, and I've played it a bit close to the chest as to whether I would see him again.
I just don't have the heart to reject him, the way I would reject some bozo in a club. Like, those guys take it on the chin, they don't know you, you're just a piece of ass to them. This guy knows me. He thinks about me. There are worse situations to be in, and I think of all the times when I was him, when I wished I could dance with the hot girl. Maybe he deserves a reward. Ugh, how egotistical-slash-shallow of me to think of myself that way. But it's a reward for me, too, because I like the attention.
I just spent twenty minutes staring at a blinking cursor trying to decide what to say, what to do... and I just finally decided to text him: Hey... feel like getting a drink?
Good for you! And thanks for continuing to share your story with us. It would be nice to see more from the other victims of the Inn, but at least we have you!
And so will this guy soon!
It's getting about Inn visiting season. Have you heard from any of the other folks who are still planning on returning?
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