"Can you not talk to me without being on your knees?" He was grinning, but it faded
when I didn't return with a smile.
"Sometimes it feels..." I cleared my throat, my head racing to find the right words.
"Like I just, I don't know how you'll react. I don't know if you'll be honest. I don't know. I
just don't know what to expect from you, the normal you, so I thought maybe if I talked to
the...you know, the dominant, it would be easier." I let out a small, bewildered laugh at my
own strange impulses. "I know it doesn't make any sense, but that was my thought process. I
just felt so awkward. It's my fault."
"Maddy, stop." He twisted around so he could look at me, full-on. "Listen, I very much
want to continue this conversation, but I'm going to..." He made a vague gesture at his lap
area.
"Put your dick away first?" I suggested, intensely grateful for the break in tension.
"You have such a way with words," he said, zipping up. "But listen. Please. I know
sometimes it feels like we're more strangers than anything. And I know we don't want to talk
about it. We're afraid to. At least, I am. I'm afraid of what it means, and I'm afraid everything
we have when we're..." Another vague gesture, which I also understood. "...isn't enough to
sustain things. I understand why you did what you did. I wish you didn't feel like you had to,
but it's not your fault."
He took a deep breath, then said, "I know I'm not always the easiest to talk to. But I
do...I do try."
"I know," I said, smiling. "I know."
"Sometimes I just don't open my mouth," he said. "Because I know whatever I say, it'll
be the wrong thing."