I withheld sex from a man this week. To be honest, as a woman who likes sex, it’s something that I rarely do. But certain times call for certain measures.
I was lying topless in my jeans on the couch in Miguel’s apartment. It was a Monday. He had a nice enough place. His dog sat across from me in a small, bundled bed on the living room floor. There was a large TV and a box set of Catan sitting on the low table beneath it. We were on the 5th floor. The apartment’s windows looked out over the gentle night sky and the lit football pitch of a park nearby.
This was the second time Miguel and I had ever met. I had left him a vulnerable voice note in Spanish that morning:
“I’m feeling kind of lonely these days. Any chance I could come over and we could cuddle?”
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