I liked it rough. I liked pushing a strong man and feeling him push back.
I liked beard burns, muscle aches, and fingerprint bruises on my hips. I should be ashamed but each mark is a reminder that—for a while at least—I shared something with a man and not a fantasy or a faceless stranger in a chatroom.
I’d had plenty of chances when I was young, but now...
Now I wanted to melt into a tangle of real live arms and legs with Sky and maybe, even if I could, it wouldn’t be awesome anymore because it can’t be awesome, I can’t be awesome, now that I’m the lightning struck wonder.
Once upon a time there lived a spoiled prince who only cared about fucking and football and beer.
My life was a fairy tale.
And we all know how dark those can be.
