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Love Walter: Stranger Than Fiction

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Dear Walter,

I’m dating this guy who’s a bit rough in the bedroom. Every time we try to have sex, he’s super aggressive and kind of scary. I don’t know what to do, sometimes I just want to have sex the nice way. Is that too much to ask? What are your thoughts? Is this normal? 

—Make It Nice


Dear Make It Nice,

There was a time in my life when I craved sex. It was cheap, quick and easy. But what I soon discovered was to beware because you get what you ask for. I connected with a “down low” guy on Grindr. No face picture but a toned body. I made it work.

“Tell me your name before I get in the Uber, I don’t want to hear for the first time from the driver.” I texted. Since, you’re paying for this ride.”

“LOL. I’m Jamal. You better have some good ass.”

I arrived dressed in black. 

“When you get out the Uber come up to the third floor. Apt 302.”

“Um, where’s the elevator?”

“No elevator. Stop being lazy and get your ass up here.”

It sounded both sexy and controlling. He peered through the peephole like an episode of Catfish. My heart pounded. Time to confirm if he was hot or not. He looked like Frank Ocean. He poured me a cup of Costco Vodka with a splash of cranberry juice. 

“You’re not drinking?” I asked.  

“No, I’m heading to dinner.”

I plopped next to him on the couch and planted myself in front of the TV. He watched a reality show featuring ratchet women manufacturing drama. I sipped and made small talk while he ignored most of my jokes. I sat beside him and sipped my cocktail. Was he more interested in ratchet women?

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“Oh,” as I grabbed my cup.

I walked into the bedroom and noticed a towel on the bed. 

“There’s nothing more romantic than a brown towel.”

He laughed.

“It’s actually gray.” 

“50 shades of gray.”

He designed this bed around quickies without the trouble of changing the sheets afterwards. 

Jamal rushed while frustrated. He jammed his dick in my ass like an asshole. 

“Ouch.”

“Be gentle.”

“Nah, stop fakin’ and take dis dick.”

We segued from position to position like we were shooting porn. I got in the groove and tried a few moves of my own. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m doing my moves.”

“He pulled out and said we’re done.”

“What do you mean? Come back here.”

“I’m done. And I’m running late for dinner.”

“I hope this doesn’t affect my self-esteem.”

I walked out into the living room in a jockstrap.

“Get back in the room and put on some clothes.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, I’m the only one allowed to be out here naked.”

I took another sip and got dressed. 

“Your Uber will be here in 3 minutes.”

He gave me a hug and I walked out. I never heard from him again. 

Fuck him. 

Dating apps are like a portal for the mentally disturbed, where predators take out their frustrations on unsuspecting strangers. The signs were there but I ignored them because I wanted to have a good time. That was a mistake. Don’t let no motherfucker, no matter how good looking or how much they are spending, disrespect you. It would be irresponsible of me and you to allow anyone to get away with that kind of behavior. We are the protectors of our own kingdom. And it’s time we start acting like it.

Enjoy your life responsibly, 

Love,

Walter


Got a question? Email your letters at [email protected] His advice column will appear on Wednesday.

Walter Reed

Walter Reed is writer and advice columnist on love, lust, and life. Romance is his day job. Read more at LoveWalter.com. Follow him on Twitter @ LoveWalterHQ

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