The reality after sex

​Sex ends and you’re handed a towel like you’ve spilled something.  If they start checking their phone like you’re an email that’s already been filed, archived, and emotionally deleted and gone as fast as your boner has deflated, then this is for you.

If they shift their body away from yours like they’ve suddenly remembered you’re a stranger, a mild inconvenience, or a man who might ask how their day was, which is obviously unacceptable, then you’re missing that 0.5%.

If the air changes, like someone opened a door to a freezer stocked entirely with unresolved trauma and avoidance… yeah.

You feel it before you understand it. The temperature drops, the silence gets loud, and suddenly you’re aware of where your clothes are, how far the door is, and how quickly this has gone from “come here” to “okay, so I’ve got an early morning.”

Online sex can finish with a wave of a cum covered hand and the one clean finger reaching for the big red 🛑 before the video cuts out. 

You realise that you’re standing mostly naked in a bathroom alone. The guy is not going to help you clean up the cum on the floor, or the toilet, or off your clothes. It might as well be urine or shit.