On the Fourth of July, we watched fireworks while “chaperoned” by his brother, who soon left when he saw our intentions. After the fireworks, Dan and I snuck off to a quiet place beneath a willow tree and spread a blanket. We made out, caressing each others’ skin beneath our shirts, which were sticking to us in the summer heat. Then, I took out from my purse the gold NHS tassels we got at graduation. I forced him to kneel as I bound his hands behind his hands behind his back and ordered him to close his eyes. I teased him with kisses in the dark, on his lips, on his neck. Then I lifted his shirt, teasing his nipples with my teeth and tongue working my way down where I sucked his cock and stroked it with my hands.
Then it was my turn. He tied my hands and lay me down, kissing his way down as he had observed me doing. He took off my pants and my underwear, spread my legs and started kissing my thighs. I felt his hot, wet tongue probe me. He withdrew for a moment, and I arched my back to meet him. Dan took his rough hand and forced it inside me, over and over again. His mouth resumed sucking and licking while his forceful hand penetrated me. I felt so wonderful that I thought my heart would burst and I would die from sheer ecstacy.
When I could finally take no more, he climbed on top of me and kissed me. I could taste myself mingled with the heat of his sweat in the July humidity. We often made the heat even worse that way.
By the end of the summer, we both had jobs. Dan was a lifeguard. I was a temp for an agency. The weeks leading up to our departure were filled with dread, at least for me. We would occasionally talk on the phone or online, but he was always too busy to see me.
Then, out of nowhere, I never heard from him again.
While I was working, a guy I worked with told me that I deserved better. Either he meant it, or he was trying to get me to go out with him. A lady I worked with told me that if Dan would defy his mother for me (as her husband defied his mother for her), he would be worthy. Maybe I was imagining things, but as I looked back on the relationship, the more it seemed like Dan was more controlled by his mother than by his own decisions.
When I picked him up to go to a pool party once, his mother kept sending him upstairs for things like jeans, a sweatshirt, and mosquito spray. Perhaps she was just being a protective mother, but to me, it felt as if she was marking her territory, saying “this is my son and you can’t take him away.” I refuse to play the race card since it seems so ridiculous that she would object to Dan seeing me because I am Asian. I prefer the “first girlfriend” reaction. Either way, mothers never like their son’s first girlfriend no matter who she is.
Or maybe this had nothing to do with her. Maybe Dan simply tired of my mood swings and insecurities. Or maybe he didn’t want to deal with a long-distance relationship despite his brother telling us that Bloomington is only half an hour from Champaign. I understand that since I am faced with temptation every day on campus. Still, there’s no use dwelling on the past, and now that I have fully recounted the relationship, perhaps I can finally move on with my life and be happy with someone else.