Sexual Promises Not Achieved

This is Usher, Not The Nameless Man

The room was supposed to be dark with just the glare of the moonlight shining through the window.  90's R. Kelly music was supposed to be playing in the background to set the mood. Maybe we would listen to Bump N Grind. Then again Seems Like You're Ready would be a great start for the night. Or we could also just let classic after classic play to get us through the night. I would entice him with either a sexy outfit or some brand new lingerie. Whatever he would be wearing would not matter because within a matter of minutes clothes would come off. Then for the rest of the night he would bring all of his sexual promises to life.

That's what they were, sexual promises. He never gave big descriptions. He always let me know that once he finished I would be very pleased. His confidence excited me. I didn't know what he had planned, but was anxious for whatever it was.

Was he the boring type? Did he just get his erection, explode, and leave? Was he an energizer bunny? Could he give good sex all night long? Could he be the kinky type? Was he into handcuffing, being handcuffed, going downtown, or even sexing in public places? Was he willing to teach? I don't know everything about pleasing a man yet.

The conversations took place. Plans were made. The only problem I had was the idea of having sex at my place. Due to my living situation there was no way it could happen and in no way would it be a good idea. He agreed, but never picked another area. We talked about it for weeks, maybe even months. Our conversations were never regular. We were both single, but he wasn't looking for a relationship. I respected that, so I persisted to keep my distance. However, every time we did talk sex came up.

The thought of sex connected us. It was not his fault either. He was cute to look at and his voice was sexy as hell. However, we didn't have much in common. He had a better conversation with my friend who played sports just like him. I was there when they went on and on about the sports they played in school. I was also the odd one in the group. But when that friend was not around and it was just me and him talking sex came up. We could talk about that and we both wanted it. At least I thought we both did.

He made these promises about how good he was, but never went into any real description. Being a writer, it was easy for me to try and fill in the blanks. Maybe that is where I messed up. Once a new nigga came around I pushed him to the back of my mind. Sex with the next guy was easier to achieve and then it didn't end at the guy. However, after months of not getting any attention from men, he reappeared.

We talked about random things, but sex eventually came up. It may have been my fault. Then he asked the question.

"I hope I am not too direct. But whatever happened to me and you fucking?"