Word count: 453
Summary: Never let people pressure you into being unsafe.
How many people have been told these same lines by someone who didn't like condoms? *raises hand* Link to frequent excuses.
The thing about him was...he was erratic, hard to please, and was – to a certain degree – a habitual liar; I shouldn’t have listened to him.
“Look, I’ll just pull out right when I’m about to cum, deal?”
It felt like I was involved in a dodgy trade of sorts...
“I’ll give you no condom in exchange for pulling out. No dice? You drive a hard bargain but fine – we’ll go for pizza, too. Pizza, final offer. Going once, twice... SOLD, to the gullible girl with a soft spot for baby faces and shaggy hair.”
He lowered his eyelids and bit his bottom lip. “Plus,” he whispered enticingly, fringe falling in front of his eyes, “it feels much better without one, right?”
What was I going to say? An attractive guy, an attractive naked guy, had just bitten his lip. I don’t even remember words, never mind objections, bothering to form in my head.
“I promise I’m clean.”
The surety of his claim was very low and plus, I can promise thousands of things that I wouldn’t be able to prove.
“I’ve done it with other girls and nothing bad happened.”
Some people like extreme sports, doesn’t mean I’m about to hop on a motorbike and jump through a ring of fire.
“I think I’m too big for normal condoms anyway, they might split, then you may as well not be using one,” he pauses, I supposed to make me think deeply about what he’s said. “It makes sense.”
This should have made me leave immediately if anything – have you seen how much air, water, a forearm, whatever the fuck, can fit inside a standard condom?
He looked away from me with sad eyes. “What, you...you don’t like me enough?”
This. I hate myself for it but this is what got me. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
“I like you,” I hastily added like a parent’s reflex when they’re worried about dropping their baby. “I just, I want to be safe.”
A hand cupped the side of my face protectively. “And you will be,” his thumb stroked the corner of my mouth, “I’ll keep you safe, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
‘Liar’ was printed on the walls of my mind like bloodied words inside a haunted house but instead of heeding their warning, I painted over them.
When I looked him in the eyes, I made myself believe him. You hear that? I forced myself into a false sense of security. After all, how could someone so attractive who ‘promised’ be a bad guy? That was my train of thought, verbatim.
When I closed my eyes, tears seeped from them like blood from a fresh cut.
Stupid. Absolutely moronic.
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