He Isn’t You

You’ve ruined me for other men.
I found one
that I thought could work.
So we met for drinks and
talked and
I was bored so
somewhere between
the first round
and the second
I let my sandals slide
to the floor and
I let my feet slide
to his lap and
immediately
without hesitation
his hands were on me
stroking
and pressing
and massaging
and rubbing
and I thought,
This could actually
work.
But I eventually got
bored
of his hands
on my feet and
curled them
underneath my chair.
So he stretched his
bare legs
so that our calves were
touching.
And I thought,
who wears
pink linen shorts
to a bar.
But I reached down
to rub his leg
Because
I thought it was
the polite thing to do
and I thought,
Why does his skin
feel like leather
and I stopped.
There was
a good amount of
flirtation and touching
through the second drink
and then
I got bored and said
it was time to go.
He walked me
past his car
to mine.
And I leaned back against it.
And I thought,
You would already
have had me
pinned under your weight,
your strength.
I was bored so
I put my arms
on his shoulders and
pulled
our bodies
closer and
I thought,
He’s really short.
And we kissed.
And I thought,
Why are his lips so tight?
Why aren’t they soft
like yours?
Why isn’t he
licking
biting
sucking?
Why aren’t his hands
In my hair,
on my neck?
Why don’t I feel
what I feel
when my mouth is
under yours?
I realized
His hands were on me.
kind of on my hips,
not quite on my ass,
squeezing rhythmically,
almost chaotically.
I thought,
How does he
not know
what to do
with his hands
and my ass?
You know how
to handle my ass.
You know exactly
what to do with it.
I was bored
of his mouth
on mine.
He tasted of
stale Tito’s and
sour nervousness.
You taste of
delicious dominance and
forbidden sweetness.
So I moved my lips
away from his and
I moved my hair to
bare my neck and
he sprinkled
dry little kisses there
with his tight thin lips.
I was bored.
Your tongue
would’ve slow danced
with my skin
making me pant,
your teeth
would have sparked
little bits of pain
that made me
want to bleed
and cry
for you.
I was bored
and annoyed
and in a last ditch effort
to show him how I play
I bit his shoulder
hard
and when he didn’t react
I bit it again
harder
and when he still didn’t react
I sighed
and easily untangled myself
from his arms
He didn’t try to stop me.
I was bored.
You would have
curled your fingers
into the hair
at the base of my neck
pulled my arms low
behind my back and
dropped a firm
No
in my ear
before turning me
back towards you and
dragging your tongue
from my ear,
across my throat
to my mouth.
But he did nothing so
I unlocked my car
and politely said
it’s time for me to go.
Good night.
Bless his vanilla heart,
he gave it a shot.
He grabbed my wrist,
but it felt
more desperate
than dominant,
and leaned in and
I turned my cheek
toward his lips and
he said
I don’t want your cheek
I want your lips and
I laughed and said,
And at this point,
you’re not getting them.
And I got in my car
and drove home
and called your wife
and said,
He can’t kiss.
And she said,
Oh, Sweetie,
you’ll never find
someone who kisses
exactly the way you like.
And I thought
Oh, Honey,
I already have.
And I wish it was him
I had been kissing.
Fuck.
I miss your kisses
and I hate
that every kiss
from every man
will leave me bored
simply because
they
aren’t
you.