Page 86 of Flipping the Script

Every other sexual encounter in my life had started and ended with me. I was always the aggressor and seducer. The one who made my partners feel good and rocked their worlds.

But the fucked-up part was that I didn’t do it because I was some sort of pleasure Dom and getting people off was one of my kinks. I did it because it was the only way Icouldhave sex.

Being vulnerable in front of people didn’t come naturally to me, neither did handing over my power. Sex was intimate. It was all about connection and sharing the moment with someone.

At least that’s what it was supposed to be like. But until Sebastian, that hadn’t been my experience. I liked sex as much as the next guy, and I was good at it. That wasn’t even me being arrogant. It was just a fact.

I was good at reading people and even better at being who they wanted me to be. It made sex easy, and it was one of the reasons I’d gone into escorting.

Sex and seduction were formulaic. Kissing, foreplay, then the main event. There were always some variations depending on the situation, but that was essentially it. As long as I stuck to the script, my partners left my bed, or wherever we happened to end up, happy.

I’d thought maybe my preoccupation with everything stemmed from the fact that I’d bottomed for him. I didn’t do it often, mostly because I never seemed to find myself with men who wanted to fuck me and were eager for me to fuck them. But also because I needed to be really into things in order to relax enough for it to not hurt. Even then, the last guy I let fuck me complained that I’d still tried to top from the bottom and hadn’t given up control.

But I had with Sebastian.

I still didn’t know why I’d agreed when he’d asked if he could fuck me.

I didn’t have a plan when I told him to meet me in my old room beyond getting each other off again. I needed to touch him, to get rid of the energy buzzing between us that blurred the line between attraction and annoyance.

Then he asked if he could fuck me, and I agreed without a second thought. I didn’t just want it; I needed it.

Needed him.

Giving up control to him had been surprisingly easy. Maybe it was because we had mutual trust under our animosity, and I instinctively knew he’d make it good for me. Even with his monster cock.

I’d never taken a dick as big as Sebastian’s, and I was ready for it to hurt. I practically gave him permission to stick it in and go to town. But he didn’t. He was gentle and considerate, all while pretending to not be.

I’d never tell him this, but I was grateful he kept up our usual banter and energy while he prepped and fucked me. I couldn’t have handled any sort of tenderness or softness, not then. What happened between us hadn’t been about making love or anything stupid like that. It was about fucking and getting off, which was exactly what we’d done.

What I really needed to do was stop obsessing over it and let it the fuck go.

It didn’t matter why I was hung up on things. I needed to get over it. Sebastian had.

“I’m fine.”

I startled. Shit. I’d zoned out in the middle of our conversation. Thank god Adam was engrossed in his phone and didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you sure?”

He stopped typing and dropped his phone onto his chest. “Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Nothing.” He shot me a typical Adam grin, the one he used when he didn’t want to talk about something and no amount of pushing would make him open up. “Is there any more pizza left?”

“You ate it all.”

“What about that leftover Thai from a few days ago?”

“You ate that too. And the spaghetti I made last night,” I added preemptively.

He patted his stomach. “Do you have any ice cream sandwiches left?”

“Ice cream sandwiches?” I wasn’t a fan of ice cream and hadn’t had one in years.

“Yeah.” He rolled off the couch. “One sec.”

I waited as he made a beeline for my kitchen, then came back a moment later with an ice cream sandwich in his hand.

---