It started with texting. She was cautious about meeting a man through an unconventional method. Soon thereafter, phone calls proved he was, in fact, a real person with a voice, with a mind, and a desire for adventurous sex. At the time of introduction, Natalia, admittedly, was worried about what was to come of their first meeting—her meeting with Zed that is.

        Zed was a man no older than 25 that Natalia met online. As a Millennial born midway through the Y-Generation, Natalia had believed the scope of online dating should be left to the old and lonely (anyone above the age of thirty). However, an “article” published by the abhorrent “BuzzFeed.com” regarding the hilariously boyish pick-up lines of the app “Tinder” eliminated any shame in trying it. Her roommate promised to join with her.

        Again, he was a man no older than 25 with eyes of insatiable blue color dirtied by hazel strokes. His hair was styled in the way guys her age found fashionable; short, faded sides and reasonably long and parted on top. Natalia spoke of thousands of gray hairs, only noticeable in direct sunlight, planted in the fields of a thick black mane, of which her fingers fondly remember running through. Even though his body was subpar by today’s standards, Natalia found it more than adequate for her needs.

        At first, their time talking together was meant to build up the tension of their first sexual encounter; which came quietly on a Thursday afternoon, after Natalia’s first and last class of the day.  Natalia only agreed to meet that day because his apartment complex was close to the college campus. Her first semester of her second year of grad school—majoring in early childhood development—had all the perks of deferred student debt and few classes. With her class work out of mind, Natalia pulled up to the shoddy exterior of some cheap apartments in her metallic blue Ford Focus. The car was a couple of years shy of being brand new and was a graduation present from her parents (they promised to pay the first two years of the car notes). Regardless, the condition of the building didn’t turn her off because she had not come from privilege and wasn’t in the mood to be a hypocrite on that particular day.

        She grabbed her purse and premeditatively had her hand on her pepper spray, which the university had bestowed upon her in an attempt to mask their incompetent sexual misconduct policies. However, she would make it look like she was simply putting her phone or her keys away—something sly. When she knocked he answered almost instantaneously.

        “Hey, Natalia, right?” Was his cordial greeting—he was shorter than she had imagined, she let it slide.

        “Well, come on in,” he said slightly uncomfortably because of her stoic demeanor.

        Natalia entered, taking her hand off the pepper spray when she realized he was only a frat kid who loved weed and alcohol, and placed her bag on the already crowded “dining room” table. They sat on the larger of two couches in front of the TV that was streaming South Park from a PS3. Zed turned the volume down out of consideration for her. They talked about school and work and themselves until the air thickened like smog on the breaking horizon, they realized all that was left to do was have sex. Natalia asked Zed for a drink.

        “All I’ve got is whiskey,” he said holding up a well drunk 1.75 of Jack Daniels, “I hope you don’t mind because we don’t have much for chasers either. Except, I guess, like water?” His words were erratic and Zed’s nervousness struck Natalia as queer because less than 24 hours ago he was referring to her as his “little fuck toy.” She obliged regardless.

        “Yeah, sure, that’s totally fine by me.” Natalia was her father’s only “son,” so to speak, and as such, was brought up to enjoy the finer things in life, like brown liquors and a hearty breakfast.

        Zed walked over with two glasses wet from being recently washed. I guess he cared enough to clean up, she facetiously thought and helped her self. Zed started playing music on his laptop, hoping to soften any silence and to send the room into a spiral of sexuality set free. One large gulp of the whiskey and Natalia lightly slammed her glass on the faux-wood coffee table out of habit—from there she abandoned it. Zed's hands were hungry grazed across the meadows of Natalia’s body. First her shins, he waited for her eyes to look at what he was doing, and when they returned to his, he felt safe to move over the mountains of her knees and to her thighs. Natalia’s breath rattled and she lost scope of any inhibition, and that's when he finally decided to lean in and kiss her.

        Natalia would argue, no kiss held more passion than Zed’s did that night. No movie had ever captured it. No book had ever described it well enough; not even James’ “Fifty Shades of Grey” came close. His teeth lightly closed around her bottom lip and pulled, she left her body. Slowly, her head fell back, accentuating the pull whose soft grasp grew firmer with resistance. Zed held on, and when the elasticity of her lips was released, Natalia saw a piece of her, one which Zed would hold onto, transfer bodies. This was ultimately Natalia’s flaw, pulling away—always expecting another to follow. He gave her reason to believe in it too.

        The heart of a woman lives in the emotivity of sexual experience and being aware of it is not enough; Natalia proved this to herself that night. She had only wanted sex—pure and passionate. We’re all animals, right? That’s why “you dirty little slut” was decidedly provocative while despotically whispered in Natalia’s ear. The clouds of passion that drowned the room were a kindness enacted by Eros, but even the gods lack self-control when investing heavily in mortals' lives.  

        When it was all over, Natalia laid in awe of Zed, who left the room to cook food naked.These Tinder profiles need to come with a warning, she thought; her legs were still numb and she was delightfully sore where it counted—he's quite well endowed. Natalia eventually regained control of herself and covered her legs with Zed's blanket. She turned to face his room as the heavy, sweat-stretched air slowly seeped into the kitchen. The time she spent in that body soaked bed staring out weaved dreamworlds of a man who wouldn't be able to pick her out of a police line up unless she was nude.

        “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate,” she smiled, lightly stroking the outskirts of her right areola; still unable to comprehend Zed’s showmanship. Natalia had fallen that day, whether it was out of lust or love only she knew. Nevertheless, that bed, drenched in unknowingness, would be Ground Zero of her hopes of love that year. All the while, Natalia spent her time listing his positive attributes and listening to the pop of food decorating an oily stovetop as Zed cooked. 

        “He’s smart, but not pretentious. He’s grounded, humble in his limited vast knowledge. He knows his way around a lady, but never goes too far. He holds some level of intrigue about him, but I feel I know him entirely…”

---------------------------------------------------

        Bittersweet months had passed since that damning and fateful night ruefully spent in euphoric bliss. In the beginning, their inflammable sexual exploits knew no conservation. They both ventured into the dark caverns of feral fantasies. Zed and Natalia both tested the roles of dominant and submissive lovers, Natalia found the latter most arousing. The sadomasochism was Natalia’s idea, but Zed had eccentric fantasies of his own, like foot-jobs, cosplay (costume sex), and anilingus; she went along with it all because she believed in their pseudo-relationship.

        “Honestly, who would ask such sexual deviancies if they weren’t looking to uphold a legitimate relationship?” Natalia often asked herself—feigning the responsibility of rationalism.This façade was fed with semi-weekly visits with Zed, each one as reassuringly misleading as the last; that is, until they became no more. 

        Natalia had surmised that Zed had other sexual partners on the side, and that was fine by her; it was the Tinder culture to spread your wealth far. However, Natalia was under the impression that she was first-in-show when it came to Zed’s mistresses. After the first couple months of consistent visits, which consisted of “the most amazing sex [Zed] ever had,” Natalia felt privileged to some sort of special treatment. She knew what she had signed up for was not covered in the relationship agreement, but Natalia was hoping that Zed would evolve along side her and proposed the offer of exclusivity, expecting unwavering ascent.

        “So what are we?” She eventually asked after 20 minutes of them fiddling with cups of coffee, which were depleting quickly. This is the one question men despise the most, it’s so poorly phrased and summons a defensive state.

        “What do you mean? I thought it was very clear?” He answered, awkwardly tense.

        “At first, yeah—it was very clear—but we grew beyond that a long time ago.”

        “How?”

        “Probably when you asked to lick my asshole and asked me to do the same to you.” She couldn't help spitting her words out.

        His eyes showed fear as he looked around for anyone who might be in ear shot, “shut up about that shit.”

        “Sorry, I figured if that’s not what couples do then everyone must be into it.”

        “Where do you think you get off talking like this?” He whispered hoarsely over his cup of coffee.

        “Well, you pretty much just told me I was nothing.”

        “I told you from the beginning, I wanted a sex toy, how can I be responsible for any assumption beyond that? I’m sorry, but I just can’t see you in that way or feel about you in that way.” His voice had softened at that point. So did his eyes, Natalia noticed.

        “Why not?” She demanded, not yet willing to let up on him.

        “I’ve been hurt, Nat. I keep myself in the company of women to mask the pain. I didn’t expect us to start hanging out a few times a week when this started or I would have been even clearer from the start. I have no emotion towards women; harlot after harlot stripped that rite from me. Sex gives me confidence, I always feel invincible afterwards—which probably explains the high number of partners I’ve had.”

        “Should I be worried?” She asked obviously disgusted by the recent discovery.

        “No, I get tested after every partner.” He said, but she was still quite wary of the worth of his word at this point. “Look, Nat, you’re a great girl, I don’t open up this way to other girls, but I tried to feel something. I simply can’t though. It’s been fun, Natalie, but I think I have to go.” He stood up.

        “Just like that?” She asked, still seated. “It seems like a waste of time to just cut it all off here. We can’t work out some sort of friendship”

        “That’s up to you,” he said solemnly, “but only after you can dissociate yourself from these feelings because we can’t keep having this conversation. And do yourself a favor, don’t take advantage of my weakness and keep having sex with me. It will be fun for me but only hurt you more.” Natalia looked down at her hands, disheartened.

        Zed put some money on the table, “good-bye, Natalia. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

        “See ya.”

-------------------------------------

        Natalia saw him from time to time after that and stifled her feelings with little success. She still holds him in the special place a heart has for holding former lovers. Thankfully, she’s grown to a point where she can accept what’s happened and move on. I stay in touch with her and she is doing well for herself, despite the fallbacks of other men. It is always hard to discern the ones who love us genuinely when most relationships we see today are based upon lies for the sake of sex.

Next Chapter: Introduction: Zed