The Chemical Whip

To my fellow readers, I want to apologize for not posting anything this past week. The truth is that I took the time instead to do some self-reflecting. I really want to grow this blog into something more because I believe it has the potential. I see it as an form of self-expression for both my past and future. So I’ve been collecting some new material that I think will broaden the experiences for both you and me. Until I feel it is the time to unveil such material I will still write my adventures in romance, as well as continuing my Stepping Out series. To tie you over until then here is the rest of my Cop story…


The weeks passed with Peter and I following the same routine. It would be me sleeping over and in the morning going home. Communication between us was still strictly physical. He was the man I imagined wanting but somehow the fantasy seemed boring. I wanted chemistry that had words, ideas, and sexuality. These things are very important to me in a relationship. The word “relationship” though was still the the furthest thing from Peter’s mind.

“I’m just looking for someone with no drama.” Peter told me one day when discussing his ex-boyfriend (again). I understood what he meant. The gay community isn’t exactly a drama-free zone as it’s partly known for having Divas & Drag Queens. Apparently his ex-boyfriend was one of the two. Knowing this I felt like I had a chance, because I am anything but drama.

Later that same day I found myself in Peter’s bed again. We were in our underwear kissing. Rolling our bodies from one side of the bed to the other. Beneath my fingers the muscle of his back rippled and inside I felt sexy. Sexy because this was a man that wanted to be held. Our chemistry was in kisses. They weren’t sporadic but instead like an electric whip. The charge would begin from the back of his head and then pulse into the back of mine.


My head was pounding so I rolled us over to where I was on top. He asked me if I wanted to have sex. I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t enough of myself to give that I knew would be returned. That was when I knew there was a question rising out of me.

“I do, but I want to know something first. I know it’s bad timing and I’m really sorry. I need to know though. Do you like me?” I asked. I felt his belly sigh and knew what was coming.

“Well yes I like you but…” He said. That was all I needed to know that there was nothing more to give.

“It’s okay. I know it’s bad timing. It’s just… whenever I come over this is all we seem to do.” I said. He agreed and apologized if things seemed that way. We were just two people caught in the moment. Like a needle my question popped the bubble. I climbed off him so he could hold me. We fell asleep and in the morning I said goodbye.


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