The morning after…

Ah for fucksake.

The night before was a whole different picture. I felt like I had this F boy thing on lockdown (excuse the Covid-pun). I was really trying to remain strong and focused with my emotions. I was actually quite impressed with myself. No calls, no chit chat, we are not even playing lockdown virtual scrabble any more, taking my time to answer his text messages – as I didn’t want to seem too bothered. Aka that’s how he responds to my texts. Kinda fucked up I know, but that’s what I’ve got to work with in this year of isolation. Let’s leave that thought there for a minute.

The night before I was feeling super pumped, i’d had a busy week, successes with work, hit some deadlines and was feeling good. Really good in fact, I am a fucking amazing woman. I am a super sexy godess of a woman and I am horny as hell and this man is going to make me come tonight! He’d texted me earlier that day… “netflix and chill”. Hell yeah I thought. Sod the netflix, I know what this means and I’m going to get what I want. I want a party night, I want to go out have a drink, whine up on the man, take him home and make beautiful love till the wee hours! Except clubs are closed, we are keeping close company so going out for a drink isn’t even really possible. So I decide to make what I want of the evening.

I cleaned my flat so that it was looking sparking. He was due at around 7pm but called to say he was running late. So I ate my delicious deliveroo and took a shower and put some music on. Wait now, I can do better than this! I poured myself a nice rum and coke, and put on my most deliciously sexy black dress. Painted my nails and lit the candles. I had a lovely time getting ready so when the door buzzed I told him through intercom that the door was open and to come on in.

He walked into my bedroom to find me in the middle of my dimly lit bedroom, the dress looked so damn sexy and he came right into the room and crawled up to me on the bed and kissed me hello. Wow what a sexy entrance. The night was fantastic. We slept so good and in the morning I woke up with his gentle kisses and boom we were on to some morning sex. Oh how I love morning sex. The way you are kinda asleep but awake and the touch between you is a haze of soft coziness. Oh shit I could so get used to this! He feels amazing and we’d just had an amazing night and here he is in my bed making me come again and again. It was great, so great in fact that when he’d finished we realised the condom had not lived up to its role. Split, caput, broken, gone. For fucksake.

I’ve been ‘safe’ my whole life trying not to get pregnant with guys who’d much rather i’d taken a risk, and here I am with a man who is handsome, tall, sexy who has just exploded (literally) looking at me with the fear of God in his eyes. All I want is to get pregnant and have a baby now and this man most definitely does not. So what do I do? He suggests that we take a visit to the pharmacy to get the morning after pill. I know this will be the eventuality but for a while I want to play with the idea that we could have a child. They would be so gorgeous. I suggest this to him and lawd have mercy the man looked like he was going to shit his pants. Listen I want a child, but by no means am I about to trap this man in a situation he does not want or care to be in. So off we go to the pharmacy. I feel like a naughty school girl sent to explain herself to the headmaster, “…but Sir it’s not my fault!”

It’s all good as I know what is meant for me will not pass me, but I think this episode has called an end to the arrangement. I think it was a wake up call for me to realise that being with someone who really really really does not want to risk having a baby with me is not where I want to be. I’m an amazing woman and he’d be lucky to father a child with me. So we eat breakfast, I pop the pill and on we go.

Next.