Love and Intimacy Scare Me but Sex Doesn’t…

How I broke down during post-sex cuddles with my lover.

He is the perfect sex buddy. He is smart, intelligent, and sexy. He makes me wet just thinking about him. His fingers in me and his tongue on me…bliss. Orgasms come easy when I am in his bed.

He is my lover.. or as they say fuck buddy. But if you have read my earlier stories you will know why I don't want a “lover,” and why I don't want “love” anymore. I already have enough pain and heartbreak to last me a lifetime. So I obviously and very consciously avoid any kind of emotional attachment.

I have had plenty of lovers/fuckbuddies over the past years to make up for the sexless marriage. I can proudly say I have never gotten emotional and always managed to stay objective about sex.

All the overthinking which is a part of the “love” package is simply not something I think I can go through again. So I don't try, in fact, I run in the opposite direction the moment I feel even a tiny sliver of emotion seeping in through the dark “only sex” cloud. Yes, it has happened… but I have always escaped it.

Am typing this right now from a Starbucks parking lot.

(yes this is how I write most times, spontaneously and writing as I am feeling it)

I have just seen my lover, and although this wasn't the first time, something extraordinary happened.

I fell asleep.

We fell asleep in each other's arms. Spooning, spent, naked, and freshly fucked we were just cuddling when both of us simply fell asleep. I suddenly woke up and realized it, feeling the steady rhythm of both of us breathing in unison.

My brain immediately started sending me warning signals, “Danger, Will Robinson!!”

I stirred, hoping he would also wake up and want to leave but he just turned me around to face him and pulled me closer. I surrendered, even though my brain was warning me these are just the fuckin hormones.

He started slowly running his fingertips all over my back, squeezing my butt … he kept doing it, increasing pressure, being gentle and hard at the same time.

It was pure affection.

His lips were rested on my forehead and he increased his pressure on my waist and kept caressing, squeezing.

I held him as close as can be and as his hand came up to the nape of my neck and fingers interlaced in my hair, I started sobbing. In his chest….

His hand stayed there and he held me close as I broke down face buried in his chest. This was a first for me. This intimacy, affection, and love he was showering on me was overwhelming.

I felt helpless, I knew I was being stupid… but it still happened. Me, who writes about fucking being just sex, and only hormones….

I crumbled. Badly.

Luckily this is a man whom I trust completely, he is mature and fantastic in every way. He held me and asked me if I want to tell him what happened. I tried, but kept tearing up.

I shook my head, no.

“You don't have to,” he said, when I couldn’t respond.

We stayed there for a long time, but soon it was time to go.

“Hope you don't think I am a freak who is going to latch on emotionally onto you. I am not. It was just a moment,” I said.

“I understand, we are all human. I feel the same too.”

We kissed and said goodbye.

I couldn’t stop thinking.

I drove to this Starbucks, processing my thoughts throughout the trip. It broke my heart even more as it dawned on me that this intimacy and affection, which is completely missing from my home life is now my weakness.

It's like I am a starving dog, you give me food aka sex, am happy.

But if you pet me and show me “love,” I am doomed. I no longer know how to process it… coz my daily life is a desert.

It's dry, pathetic, and painful.

What comes naturally to other people, i.e affection, caressing, and falling asleep naked with your lover, hurts me and scares me.

Because I know, it's not real. And what is my real life… is something exactly the opposite.

This happened to me today. The sex was mind-blowing indeed, now that is something I can handle. My pussy is still raw from it as I type. And my legs are still quivering, but…

Guess life broke me good — so yeah fuck me hard, fuck me long and good. But if you show me love, I might run….I am too afraid, too fragile. Run?

So all of you adulterers or fuck buddies out there, if you think you can “love,” then by all means go for it. But if you are damaged like me…

Take a pause, evaluate, and if you feel it necessary, run…

This makes me wonder,

Will I run?

P.S- I loved the image, it looks like how my heart is, guarded, and behind bars.

Read some of my stories to understand why I am this way —