about it. I remembered it, intensely . It would come back to me at the times when my mind was allowed to wander the most…like in the shower and just before bed when I would lay awake before falling asleep.
Sleeping with Dante had been a terrible mistake. Sleeping with Dante had been the worst thing I could have done in my position at a time like this. Sleeping with Dante, was the sort of thing that would turn into a career-ruining scandal if it came out. It wasn’t even sleeping together ; we had been fucking . It was bareback, dirty, gross fucking in a locker room where anybody could have walked in and seen us. Saying we had slept together was just the way I wanted to think about it. It made it seem just that little bit less gross. Just put some nice dressing on a shit salad. I was supposed to be a reporter . I wasn’t supposed to sleep with my subjects.
Was there a bigger breach of ethics than this? It wasn’t like this was anything illegal, but it was wrong. It was a little gross using a person you had so much power over for sex. Okay, that was a little steep . I wasn’t using him for sex. If anything he was using me for sex.
I didn’t know how the thought made me feel. I had told him his rules, and no womanizing was one of them. I expected him to follow them, but to be perfectly honest, wouldn’t have been that surprised if he didn’t. I wasn’t his teacher. He wasn’t going to get detention for not following the rules, I just wanted him as clearheaded as possible, without distraction. I, to him at least, was going to be there to help him work his urges out, or whatever, which was a little polarizing to think about. It was just casual sex. People in their twenties and older… and younger too, had it all the time. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t have it all the time, but still, not a big deal .
Why was I thinking that just because we had had sex one time, we had to keep doing it? It wasn’t like bleaching your hair where you then had to go back in and keep getting your roots colored. No . We could never go back and never have sex with each other in the first place, but we could never have sex again going forward.
That was it.
That would have been the better, and right thing to do in this situation. If you looked at it technically, our professional relationship, Dante’s and mine had only just begun. The first interview had happened without the cooperation of the team and his management. It was like it didn’t even count . I would totally use it though. However, as far as the two of us went, everything that had happened bar the interview could be stricken from the record.
If you ignored something long enough, it became invisible. That was one way all this could go. I could ignore it, forcing him to ignore it, too. If you ignored something for long enough though, it could get worse. Where did we fall? We weren’t a loose string in a sweater that left unchecked would unravel and ruin the whole garment. We were two adults who were more than capable of keeping their genitals to themselves. Attraction wasn’t like hunger ; you wouldn’t die if it wasn’t fulfilled.
Dante Rock was by no means my first time, but he was the first that I had had in a little bit. Also, the first that I had had and felt that damn good. I think it was because we were in public. That was why it was so hot to think about. Anybody could have walked into that locker room and gotten the scoop of the century. Dante would have survived, but I would likely have ended up out of a job.
He had had nothing to work with but his body, and it had to still be one of the most erotic experiences of my life. No ambiance. No mood. No aphrodisiacs, no nothing. Just him and the weapon of mass destruction between his legs. We hadn’t even been naked, but there was a chance that I had never been hotter in my life. Just the solid size and girth of him stretching me out still made me wet when I thought about it.
Sleeping with Dante had been a terrible mistake. Sleeping with Dante had been the worst thing I could have done in my position at a time like this. Sleeping with Dante, was the sort of thing that would turn into a career-ruining scandal if it came out. It wasn’t even sleeping together ; we had been fucking . It was bareback, dirty, gross fucking in a locker room where anybody could have walked in and seen us. Saying we had slept together was just the way I wanted to think about it. It made it seem just that little bit less gross. Just put some nice dressing on a shit salad. I was supposed to be a reporter . I wasn’t supposed to sleep with my subjects.
Was there a bigger breach of ethics than this? It wasn’t like this was anything illegal, but it was wrong. It was a little gross using a person you had so much power over for sex. Okay, that was a little steep . I wasn’t using him for sex. If anything he was using me for sex.
I didn’t know how the thought made me feel. I had told him his rules, and no womanizing was one of them. I expected him to follow them, but to be perfectly honest, wouldn’t have been that surprised if he didn’t. I wasn’t his teacher. He wasn’t going to get detention for not following the rules, I just wanted him as clearheaded as possible, without distraction. I, to him at least, was going to be there to help him work his urges out, or whatever, which was a little polarizing to think about. It was just casual sex. People in their twenties and older… and younger too, had it all the time. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t have it all the time, but still, not a big deal .
Why was I thinking that just because we had had sex one time, we had to keep doing it? It wasn’t like bleaching your hair where you then had to go back in and keep getting your roots colored. No . We could never go back and never have sex with each other in the first place, but we could never have sex again going forward.
That was it.
That would have been the better, and right thing to do in this situation. If you looked at it technically, our professional relationship, Dante’s and mine had only just begun. The first interview had happened without the cooperation of the team and his management. It was like it didn’t even count . I would totally use it though. However, as far as the two of us went, everything that had happened bar the interview could be stricken from the record.
If you ignored something long enough, it became invisible. That was one way all this could go. I could ignore it, forcing him to ignore it, too. If you ignored something for long enough though, it could get worse. Where did we fall? We weren’t a loose string in a sweater that left unchecked would unravel and ruin the whole garment. We were two adults who were more than capable of keeping their genitals to themselves. Attraction wasn’t like hunger ; you wouldn’t die if it wasn’t fulfilled.
Dante Rock was by no means my first time, but he was the first that I had had in a little bit. Also, the first that I had had and felt that damn good. I think it was because we were in public. That was why it was so hot to think about. Anybody could have walked into that locker room and gotten the scoop of the century. Dante would have survived, but I would likely have ended up out of a job.
He had had nothing to work with but his body, and it had to still be one of the most erotic experiences of my life. No ambiance. No mood. No aphrodisiacs, no nothing. Just him and the weapon of mass destruction between his legs. We hadn’t even been naked, but there was a chance that I had never been hotter in my life. Just the solid size and girth of him stretching me out still made me wet when I thought about it.
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