WARNING! THE FOLLOWING POST HAS EXPLICIT MATERIAL!

He wakes me in the morning by putting my hand on his fat cock. After an hour and a half, he takes a moment to breathe. He’s lying on top of me, and he looks into my eyes as he says in French, “I’m not taking you back to the airport in two weeks. Two years maybe.” He pauses. “Your whole life... if you wish.” He looks into my eyes and there isn’t a trace of “I’m just kidding” anywhere in his face. I should know because I’m searching it for any evidence of a joke.

There are certain phrases that you don’t ever count on hearing. They are different for each person because, of course, it depends on your circumstances. Being asked to spend my life with someone, that was one of those phrases for me. I never thought a man would ever say it to me again, not even in jest. My French is not so bad that I don’t understand what he is saying, but I remain silent because I’m terrified. I’m terrified of believing in this moment even though he’s been as good as word. And what terrifies me about this moment is that I wish, more than anything, I wish to spend the rest of my life here...in this bed, in this life, in this oh so different world where men meet you at the airport and wishes are fulfilled and expectations are met and exceeded with this man. I’m terrified by how much I wish. Oh how I wish.

But I say nothing. Because I want to believe even if he doesn’t mean it, and the price of belief is silence. And so, he returns to an act for which language is not necessary.

Two hours later, after coffee in bed, he finally allows me to get up. There are places he wants to take me, surprises he says.

Surprises. Of course, everything here is a surprise. I have no idea what to expect.

And I love it.