The road to Hell may be paved with good intentions but the road to my destination is littered with my clothes. Before you smile and think about something hot and wild like me stripping nude while driving and throwing my clothes out the window, it was more of a Murphy’s Law event than something sexy. Perhaps it was the universe foreshadowing, trying to prepare me for what was going to happen

Sylva pointed out that despite me fooling myself into thinking that I wasn’t going to spend the weekend with my lover while he and his friends pummeled each other with swords that I was actually going to go. She modified my chainmail bikini for me so that it fit properly and asked if I’d give her a ride to the event. Leaving work early in the afternoon, my bags already packed and in the trunk, I picked her up and we were off for a weekend of living in a fantasy-world.

Reality had other plans. About halfway through the three or so hour drive, my car began veering to the right a little. A couple miles further and I had to have the steering wheel turned to a “hard left” in order to keep the now-shaking vehicle even vaguely straight. We pulled over, discovering that I had a flat tire.

“I’ll call a tow truck or something,” Sylva said to me browsing through her phone.

“No need,” I sang out. “We’ll just change the tire.

“We can’t change a tire,” she lamented. “We’re girls, remember?”

I laughed at her and told her that the notion was utter nonsense. “My father taught me how to change a tire before he’d even let me behind the wheel. I have all the tools and a spare in the trunk.” I also had a long length of pipe in there for leverage.

We unpacked the trunk, throwing all but a couple of bags into the back seat. The two remaining bags we just set on the ground until we were done. Recalling my father’s advice, I loosened the lugs, jacked up the car, and replaced the tire with only three or four bouts of cursing and swearing. The gods of profanity would have been proud! Our extremely inconvenient delay dealt with, we threw the deflated tire and the tools back into the trunk and sped off, hurriedly, trying to make up for lost time.

Half an hour later we remembered that, in our rushed state, I had forgotten to put the other two bags back into the trunk! A tire-screeching U-turn and twenty or so minutes of speeding later, we arrived back to the scene of the crime. My bags were nowhere to be found! Some lucky scavenger was now the proud owner of my blankets and pillow, my new chainmail bikini, several medieval-looking wench outfits from Pyramid Collection, and my makeup. Yes, it’s just stuff but I felt like crying.

I was dressed in ragged cutoffs and a Van Halen t-shirt, hardly appropriate garb for grown adults playing dress up. I immediately apologized to Sylva because she had worked so hard on getting my bikini to fit perfectly. I made the gods of profanity proud once more.

“Don’t worry about it,” she soothed. “It will give us an excuse to have another fitting sometime.”

As enticing as it was, I still glowered. The combination of Sylva acting silly, Iron Maiden and Blondie playing, and the beautiful evening eventually brought me around again. I thanked my friend, Matt, for bringing up Debbie Harry. That inspired me to grab the CD to play.

“I love this old music,” Sylva said to me. “It’s so much better than modern music.”

“Fuck you,” I replied.

“Maybe later,” she smiled.

We arrived at the site, the same as the last event, and saw a veritable sea of tents and pavilions. The field for parking was nearly full. The sun was beginning to set and fires were already blazing here and there. The entry path was manned by guards in full armor and a large banner reading “Border War 21” hung over the path.

Sylva, it seems, is quite well-known in the group. Being one of the dancers, as well as one of the few that can do decent costuming, she knows almost everyone. We couldn’t take more than two or three steps before somebody would stop her, greet us, and want to chat. As we eventually made our way around the property, I spied the low hill where Glade had previously pitched his very small pavilion a couple weeks ago. It was once again erected in the same spot. I recognized it from before but also saw something new.

In front of the entrance was a scarecrow of sorts. A wooden pole had been thrust into the ground. On the top, a black-painted bull’s skull was affixed and beneath that was a horizontal shaft with torn pennants of alternating gray and black. It looked like a demonic version of the knights’ standards that I saw at some other tents and locations.

“What’s that?” I asked Sylva, pointing towards it.

“Uh-oh,” she said slowly. “That’s his battle-flag! If he set that up that means that he’s either hired on to fight or he’s accepted a challenge!”

“Okay,” I replied. “What does that mean?”

She led me towards one of the common areas where at least a hundred people were milling about. “If he’d been hired on that means he’s going to fight for them, rather than for the crown. If it’s a challenge, then it will be a private duel. Could be serious.”

More greetings and several dozen introductions later we had plopped our remaining bags near Glade’s camp. He was nowhere to be seen. Sylva just popped her head inside and then pulled it back out, smiling.

“It’s just his stuff,” she beamed out. “Kiera didn’t come!”

I was both encouraged and sad over her observation. I had even purchased some leather manacles in case Kiera was there. I felt frustrated again when I remembered that they were also in my lost luggage!

“So?” I replied.

“That means he’s fair game!” She saw the look on my face. “Sorry,” she said. “I forgot.”

“Let’s get you properly attired,” she said quickly as she opened the flap to Glade’s tent. “Come on in. He won’t mind.”

Within a few minutes Sylva had shrugged out of her street clothes and put on a purple belly dancer outfit. Rummaging through her bags she found a white underdress—a chemise—that was soft and thin, a medium brown full length skirt, and a matching under breast, lace-up corset top. She helped me into the clothes. With a hand mirror I checked out my look. It was good enough but my shorts were extremely obvious despite the two layers of clothing covering them. Since all of my modesty-preserving undies were now lost to the perverted masses, it was the shorts or nothing at all. I opted for nothing at all and stripped them off.

I was also informed of reason for the event. There is a similar group, not too terribly far away, and they alternate hosting a “raid” into each other’s territory. The knights fight, everyone parties, and the winners get the prize. I was told that the prize this year was a jar of strawberry preserves canned by the queen herself. Yes, it’s terribly childish and silly, but it is also very fun.

We left Glade’s campsite and went out and mingled. Sylva danced, drank, ate, and flirted going from group to group and camp to camp. I followed along and drank, ate, and flirted. I got caught up in the culture and atmosphere once more and the flat tire, my lost and very expensive clothing, and the stresses of real life ebbed away.

Both men and women hit on me and flirted heavily. It was heavenly to be adored and celebrated without any pressure. Hours passed; I became more than a little inebriated, and we made a full tour of the grounds. We eventually found our way back to the gathering spot near Glade’s pavilion and our gear.

I hadn’t exactly forgotten all about my lover, but I had stopped looking for him. At first I looked all over for him with disappointment. People would mention that they had seen him but had no idea where he was. I then just quietly looked for clues as to his whereabouts. Over the next few hours of revelry I had all but forgotten about him.

Sylva and some others would dance for the people around the bonfire. There was music and laughter. I was approached, in turn, by two separate men. One offered me grapes.

“Only if you feed them to me,” I said demurely.

The other one professed that he’d do anything to massage my feet.

“Then crawl between them and enjoy,” was my response.

He did and I forgot all about him being able to see up my skirt as he expertly massaged all the tension away. It wasn’t until I looked down and saw him staring directly at my pussy that I remembered.

“Enjoying the view?” I asked. I just smiled at him and spread my legs a little more, giving him a totally unobstructed view. “Do my legs, too.”

I felt totally decadent and luxurious. I sat on a comfortable mat on the ground, my back leaning into one ruggedly handsome young man feeding me grapes and another caressing my legs. I slowly sipped my wine and enjoyed it. I watched the dancers twirl and entice, the musicians play, and the people celebrate life.

The attention to my legs and feet was beginning to turn me on and the attention to my femininity by so many admirers was turning me on immensely. I threw my head back and looked at the stars. For me it was a magical moment. I felt adored, accepted, loved, and pampered. I languished in the fingers caressing my upper thighs. I felt a fingertip brush against my pussy lips and then quickly draw back.

I snapped out my reverie and looked at the man lying prone between my legs. “I didn’t tell you to stop!” I said to him. His hands went right back to where they were. “A little softer, please,” I said to him and then settled back.

People noticed but didn’t care. I was growing very wet and my “slave’s” hands forgot all about my legs and were busy caressing my dripping pussy. Sylva broke off from the small group she was talking to and walked over with a huge smile on her face.

“I see you’re settling in,” she said as she handed me something brown and soft. I looked; it was a brownie.

“Nature’s best, “ she smiled out. “Organic, real chocolate, and herbal enhanced.” She leaned in and kissed me lightly and then danced off.

“Rub my shoulders,” I requested from my previous grape-feeding extremely muscular and somewhat handsome companion. He smiled and immediately went to work on my body. I ate the brownie noting that it had major herbal notes.

I won’t bore you with all the lavish details of being treated like a goddess. I will, however, recommend it to any woman! I was floating on clouds, feeling amazing, and my entire body had ignited into a bundle of pleasure-inducing nerves. This went on for more than an hour. My masseur on my lower half had brought me close to an orgasmic state several times but kept losing his momentum. My masseur on my upper half had covered my entire upper torso with his hands hundreds of times over; thousands of times over on my breasts and now-extremely-excited nipples.

I had had enough. I gently removed their hands from their respective spots on my body and stood. I looked them both over. I shrugged, mentally. “Now I’m so horny that I need sex. Which one of you wants me?”

As I had hoped, they both proclaimed their desire for me. I laughed, enjoying the attention. “I can’t decide,” I said to them in mock despair. “How about the both of you take me for a walk in the woods?”

They both sprung up with enthusiasm. With one young man on either side of me, I let them lead me towards the small wood. Feeling empowered I squeezed their butts with either hand. Sylva saw me and gave me a double thumbs-up sign. As we neared the edge of the party I finally saw my lover approaching.

I don’t know where he had been or what he had been doing but he looked as if he just gone through a war. He was dressed in only sandals and a sort of ornate black leather kilt or loincloth. It was a broad waist-belt that had wide strips of leather hanging down from it. The strips had rings sewn into them that matched his demonic armor. They hung about him like a skirt, covering his thighs. He was shirtless and had mystic, Celtic-looking designs painted on his upper torso. His long hair was swept back from his face and held in place by a leather headband. He carried a short sword in his left hand and the sheath was slung over his back. His lower thigh, torso, and arms were bloodied with small cuts and bruised. He looked hot!

I smiled and waved at him to catch his attention. When he saw me, his face lit up and he ran over to me. Ignoring the men on either side of me he reached in and kissed me deeply. His kiss was long, probing, and soul-igniting. If I hadn’t already been worshipped into a sexual fervor, his kiss alone would have done it.

When our kiss ended, the two young men in my arms looked at him oddly. I’d like to think that it was a mixture of respect and fear, but that’s probably just the romantic in me. He greeted them, in turn, and then turned to me.

“I’m so glad you made it. Are you camping with me or have you…” he gestured to the men holding me. “Made other arrangements?”

I giggled demurely. “My stuff is near your tent, but I’m with Sylva so she’ll have to bunk with me unless she has a place.”

He laughed then. “I’ll put her stuff inside with yours, just in case.”

He looked at me quizzically. I sensed that he was going to pull me away from my dual suitors and try to claim me for his own. I felt a sense of triumph well up inside me. I was finally going to make him beg or fight to keep me and nearly did a victory dance right then and there. He remained silent, staring, for a few seconds.

A broad smile broke out on his face; that same perfectly crooked, roguish, heart-melting, pussy-dripping smile he always has. “OK, have fun then. I’ll catch up with you later if you’re not otherwise occupied.” He slapped my suitors on their shoulders and me on my ass and then sauntered off towards the action, whistling.

“Motherfucker!” I exclaimed.

“Did I miss something?” my blond beau asked me.

“Yes, Goddess damn it.” I said back softly. “He’s supposed to get jealous and try to win my favor. No offense to you, of course.”

“None taken,” he said as he put his arm around me once more.

“Who, Glade?” My brown-haired grape-feeder said. “He’s not like that.”

“That was Glade!” the first one said as he squeezed my behind. “I’ve always wanted to fight him. I hear he’s fucking crazy.”

“Enough,” I said to them. “Take me into the woods and fuck me.” If my lover wasn’t going to steal me away from them then I might as well enjoy it. I told myself that it was the booze and the brownies speaking but I knew that I was doing it because I wanted to make him jealous and because I wanted to… mostly because I wanted to.

A few yards into the wooded area I saw a soft-looking spot and led them over to it. Lying down on their soft cloaks I stripped nude and lay on my back, spreading my legs. The muscular one knelt beside me and leaned in to kiss me. He kissed hard and strong, his tongue invading my mouth. I went with it feeling his hand caress my breast. My other lover crawled between my legs and began to lick my pussy. His tongue ran up and down my wet slit a few times and then went directly to my clit.

We kissed and I felt my pussy begin to gush. “Lick it faster, make me cum,” I begged.

“Put your cock in my mouth, I want to taste you,” I said to the other.

They alternated between kissing me, exploring my body with their hands, and licking and fingering my hot pussy. My first orgasm came on quickly and strong. My second came on the other one’s tongue while my nipples were being sucked.

“I need to be fucked!” I said. “Take turns and don’t cum until I tell you.”

I sucked while I got fucked. I kissed and fondled while I got pounded. One of them was a little longer than average but very thin. The other one was shorter than average but decently thick. The changing sensations were incredible.

On a whim I shoved blondie’s head to my clit as the other one screwed me. The sensation of having my clit licked by a man while another man was inside of me brought me to third orgasm.

I drew myself up on to my hands and knees. “I want one of you to pound me hard from behind and cum on my ass and the other one to fuck my face and cum all over my tits.” I said to them in my heat.

Feeling a cock sliding in and out of me on both ends brought me close to a fourth orgasm. I didn’t make it before the first one pulled out and I felt his hot spunk cover my behind. I forced my head down as far as I could on the second one until he told me he was going to cum. I then knelt upright and stroked him hard and fast until he shot spurts on my breasts, moaning all the while.

I sat back on my haunches and rubbed it into my skin and smiled at them both. “That was awesome,” I said to them.

They helped me up to my feet and then helped me dress and get the leaves and sticks out of my hair. They escorted me back to the common area and the party was still going strong. I looked around but didn’t see Glade. Sylva saw me and ran up to me, bouncing nicely.

“It looks like you had fun,” she smiled to me, knowingly.

“Did he storm off all jealous?” I quizzed her.

“Ah, no.” she replied. “He’s preparing for his duel tomorrow morning. Character death against Sir Maris.”

My two male companions gasped.

“What is that?”

“It means that the loser’s persona is considered killed and they have a recreate a new one,” my blond beau said in shock. “It’s very serious.”

It was explained to me that every member of the group creates a sort of alter-ego, their persona. It is the “character” they adopt and play. In a “persona-death” battle the loser is considered to be dead and the person can never use the persona again. They must create a new character whose role they’ll play.

Sylva nodded seriously and gestured to the other side of area. “He’s over there.”

I followed her gesture and there sat my lover and Sir Maris, his purported nemesis in the group. They were smiling and laughing and drinking together like the best friends. It didn’t look that serious to me.

My lover espied me and gave me a jaunty wave. Standing up, he clasped arms with his nemesis exchanging some amusing words, based upon the looks on their faces, and strolled up to me. I stood there formulating my plan to get him to beg to be with me. He hadn’t closed even half the distance before some other girl, dressed in a fur bikini stopped him. I couldn’t hear what she said to him, but I could read her body language. Her shoulders rocked back from side to side and her smile and laughter was obviously too exaggerated. If that wasn’t enough to convince me that she wanted him, her hand then rose up to his chest and traced one of his very recent wounds.

My eyes shot daggers into her back. I saw him shake his head from side to side, all while smiling. He then pressed the back of her hand to his lips and then walked to me. His eyes roamed all over me. I wished I were wearing my lost chainmail bikini. Still though, his eyes looked hungry. It probably looked obvious that I had just had sex.

“You look simply radiant, as always,” he said to me with sincere delight. He hugged me, brazenly ran his hands over my body, and began to kiss me deeply.

I pulled back quickly. “Are you sure you want to kiss me? I just had two cocks in my mouth.”

He gently forced my lips to his and kissed me. I had felt that I was sated from my previous excursions but my body responded to him by catching fire. The fire started in the pit of my stomach, moved to my recently used pussy, and then spread out through my entire body.

“I’m not concerned with other men’s cocks, only you.”

“I, ah, I was waiting for you, but they were so nice and I got so worked up, that I-“

He shushed me with a sound and placed his forefinger over my lips. “No need to explain to me. You are not mine to command.” His eyes looked down to my breasts. His hand gently groped me and he smiled.

He continued. “I know. I snuck over and watched for a while.” His smile was so naughty.

“You, you watched me? Did you like what you saw?” I didn’t know how to respond. Yes, he’d told me that he enjoys watching but I wanted for him to be mad or jealous; anything but turned on about it. Why was I getting turned on by him watching, myself?

“I just hope that you’re up for some more,” he said.

“What if I’m not?” I said finally managing some venom in my voice.

“Then we’ll just sleep, if that’s what you want.”

“Let’s have a drink first, before I decide,” I said.

“Sure,” he replied. He then addressed the throng of people milling about and yelled out. “Eat, drink, and be merry! For tomorrow we die!”

He dove into the chaotic fray of the party with gusto and I attempted to match his appetite for fun. I also ate another brownie! Several others came to talk to him about his duel and he was polite and jovial the entire time. Sylva eventually left her group of friends and hung around us.

“So you might die for real tomorrow,” she said to Glade. I was glad the she brought it up; I didn’t know how to ask him about it.

“Yep,” he chimed out between swigs of mead. “To the persona-death.”

“Is that over me?” she asked.

My lover resisted the come-hither looks and gestures of one of the dancers and continued talking. “Not entirely,” he went on. “Our rivalry has been brewing for some time now.”

“What if he wins?” I interjected.

“Then Glade the Rogue is no more.” He paused and looked pensive for a moment. “I’ll need to think up a new persona to play.”

“Wait,” I said a little stunned. “I’ve seen you in these events and out in the real-world. There’s no difference.”

“Yep,” he said taking another drink. “I really couldn’t think of anyone I’d like to be other than myself. I know, I lack imagination.”

“Let’s forget about all of that now,” Sylva suggested. “Krys, why don’t you come with me, you still owe me one, remember?”

I shrugged and let her help me up. I looked to my lover. “Are you coming or not?”

“One what?” he asked as he got up to follow.

“She fixed my chainmail bikini for me. I was going to surprise you with it! Too bad it’s gone.”

“Really? What happened?” He asked.

“Roadkill,” Sylva giggled. She relayed the story of the flat tire and my lost luggage as we walked to Glade’s pavilion.

We got inside and Sylva stripped down quickly and lay on the furs. “Your turn,” she said to me. “Sixty-eight, remember. I did you and you owe me one.”

I knelt down, knowing that my ass was pointed right at my lover, and crawled to her as sensuously and slowly as I could. I licked her pussy up and down delicately and ran my hands along her thighs. Teasing her with my lips and tongue until her breathing became deep and ragged I then turned my head towards Glade as I pulled up the back of my skirts.

“I didn’t let them cum in me; I wanted to feel you do it. Fuck me like you might die tomorrow!”

I felt him maneuver behind me as I lowered my head to Sylva’s pussy.

“Lick my kitty for me, please.” She asked.

I tasted her once more, long and deep. My tongue danced over her clit and my fingers caressed her folds. I then felt the thick head of my lover probing at my entrance. I thrust my hips back onto him, giving him the idea. I was still soaked despite my rest.

He plunged in all the way and I moaned into Syvla’s body. His thrusts became long and deep, finding a perfect pace. My eyes glanced to Sylva’s face and she was alternating between watching him fuck me and me licking between her legs. Her hands grabbed my hair and pulled me deeper into her as I increased the tempo and pressure.

She came deep and hard on my mouth; convulsing all over and screaming so loudly that everyone had to hear what was happening. When she came my lover moved himself up further and buried himself so deep inside of me that it hit pleasure spots I didn’t even know I had. He kept himself in deep, thrusting hard and fast. I was hit be an intense, surprise vaginal orgasm. My body shuddered and I couldn’t keep myself on my hands and knees anymore.

I collapsed on top of Sylva and she wrapped her legs and arms around me and kissed me in mid-orgasm. Glade continued thrusting inside of me and came violently and hard. He seemed to spurt over and over again.

We rested after that, still tangled in each other’s arms.

Before we drifted off to sleep I found the nerve to ask him, “Why didn’t you get jealous when you saw me with two other guys?”

“I adore you for how brazen and wild you are,” he mused. “If I attempted to change that, I’d change you. Don’t fuck with perfection.”

“You don’t care?”

“I care about you and your happiness. If you want to be wild, then be wild. I’ll be right alongside you, egging you on,” he chuckled.

Something inside of me shifted, or my perspective changed. It was subtle, but I finally began to understand what I was feeling, why I was feeling that way, and most especially that my actions over the past weeks were me trying to fool myself. I can’t say that I was proud of myself, my feelings, or my actions.

By the time morning came the entire camp was buzzing with the coming duel. I was awake before either of them, haunted by nightmares of the heart. I smelled cooking smells and followed them to the cafeteria tent and “bartered” some omelets and fresh orange juice. By the time I returned they were both up and about.

Glade was checking his demonic-looking black leather armor. He still had my old red sash. Sylva was sitting cross-legged facing the sun.

“That chemise of yours shows your body through the light,” Glade smiled to me.

I pirouetted for him and handed them both breakfast. We ate in relative silence.

“Well, time to dance with the reaper,” he said as he checked his weapons and gear.

We marched to the battle area together. A loud explosion sound permeated the land. I jumped and Sylva laughed. “Duel time,” she said to me.

We took up our spots. The normally festive group seemed a bit more solemn this morning. The king looked hung over. There were four duels before Sir Maris took the field.

The king spoke. “For sleights and affronts to honor Sir Maris has challenged Glade to an honor duel to the death.” Murmurs and hushed conversation went through the crowd. The king sipped a drink that looked suspiciously like modern coffee.

He turned to my lover. Sylva and I hung on either of his arms for “dramatic effect.” She was dressed in a sexy wench dress and I wore a cropped vest top of hers and a long skirt. “Do you accept the challenge?” the king asked.

Glade stepped forward and nodded in a half-bow and then turned towards Sir Maris.

Taking up position at the far end of the area Maris addressed my lover. “I’ve gone too long without satisfaction,” he said with venom in his voice. “I need satisfaction now!”

“Funny,” my knight in black armor retorted loud enough for all to hear. “Your wife said the exact same words to me!” Oohs and Aaahs filled the air along with laughter and applause. Glade donned his demon-faced helmet. “Let’s dance, you and I.”

I won’t bore you with a detailed description of their duel. When I first watched the knights fight, at the Ren-faire where we had met, I had thought that it would be exciting and dramatic to watch them joust. It isn’t anywhere near as flashy or as exciting as it is in the movies. Glade, of course, has a penchant for the dramatic and tends to be flashy, taunting his opponents, and his style is a huge contrast to all the others style of fighting. Not this time, though.

Although Maris towered over my lover and was the epitome of the knight in shining armor, it was obvious within seconds that he was out for blood. It was also quite obvious that he was highly skilled. A few moments later I realized that Glade was faster, more precise, and better. Within a minute of violence Sir Maris lay prone with the point of Glade’s sword pointed at his heart.

“I accept my death.” Sir Maris cried out, ending the battle. He opened the visor of his helm, looked Glade in the eye, and nodded to him.

Glade pulled off his helmet. He was panting and a sheen of sweat glistened on his face. He shook out his mane of hair and then tossed his sword to the ground. It landed with a thud and a rattle.

“I spare your life,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. The king stood then, his mouth agape, and the normally rowdy onlookers grew silent.

Glade held out a hand to Sir Maris and helped him to his feet. My lover glanced around and then looked at the king. He spoke loudly. “The personas we create here are a part of us.” He paused. “Killing Maris would be like an artist slashing a rival’s painting because they had a spat. Had I lost, I would have accepted my fate, but I’ll have no part in sealing his!”

Maris looked at him, stunned. He said no words but dropped down to one knee in front of my lover. Glade bent forward and said something to him that I couldn’t hear and then helped him up. He then turned on his heel and walked out of the arena, leaving his helmet and sword on the ground. I caught sight of Glade’s face. It showed neither triumph nor emotion.

“That’s legendary!” Sylva said to me.

The onlookers began hollering and shouting. The king himself smiled and yelled, then held his head.

That was my moment.

In that split-second, everything I had been feeling and everything I had been doing suddenly made perfect sense to me. I finally knew exactly how I felt, why, and I knew what I had to do. I had been trying to do it for weeks and couldn’t stop myself.

I felt my heart break right then and there.

Glade walked up to and gave me a sheepish, humble smile. He winked and shrugged.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried out to him.

He stopped in his tracks with a confused look on his face. “Sorry about what?” he addressed me.

“I have to go.” I said. My voice cracked with despair and emotion. I fought back tears.

“Oh,” he said smiling a little but still confused. “When will you be back?” He started walking towards his tent.

“I’m not coming back,” I screamed out to his back. “I can’t be with you anymore!”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face me. “Why?” he said with confusion and perhaps a little bit of pain in his voice. He gestured to his demonic-looking armor and then all around himself. “Is it because of all this?”

“Yes,” I responded feeling tears well up. “Well, no, I mean, Yes; but not how you think!”

He shrugged and sighed and turned again.

“Will you just fucking stop for second and let me speak?” Tears began running down my cheeks. My voice was cracking and warbling with sorrow.

“You and your friends, or club, or group, or whatever you call yourselves are silly and childish and so damn wonderful! You’ve created this fantasy world of freedom and acceptance and openness and you’re all so awesome.”

He looked at me with a half-smile on his lips and just shrugged.

I went on. “You all have the ‘personas’ you’ve created, and you might not see it, but I do!” I became vaguely aware of onlookers. I ignored them as my emotions burst forth.

“You don’t see that while you all play dress-up and pretend to be somebody else that the real you shines through! You are all so fun and exciting and interesting and amazing.”

He stared at me blankly and shrugged. “So what’s the problem?”

“You!” I yelled at him. I pounded my fists against his armor and then stepped back. “You’re my fucking problem!”

“Can’t you see it? You’re so perfect!” I threw my hands up and gestured towards him.

“You’re so hot and wild and accepting!” I think I was screaming at him but I was only aware of his eyes. This hazel and gray-rimmed eyes showed only agony and confusion. He didn’t understand.

“You can pretend to be anyone at all, act any way you want, and you! You always say the perfect thing, do the perfect thing! And you’re so sexy. Don’t’ you understand?”

Glade just threw his hands up, dumbfounded.

“Why are men so dense? You know how to talk, you also know how to hear and listen. You don’t know how rare that is! You and your…” I paused, catching my breath between sobs. “You make me feel like I’ve never felt before! You’re the perfect lover, the perfect kinky partner. You get me! I love how you make me feel. Don’t you see? That’s why I have to end this!”

“What?” he said.

“I wish I could fucking hate you, but I can’t. The Goddess fucking knows I’ve tried. I hate that you’ve made me love you! I want more and more and more and I can’t fucking control myself around you. I love you, your confidence, your humor, this group of yours, and everything about you. That’s why I have to end this. I’m sorry.”

He drew in a breath and made ready to speak.

“Don’t you dare!” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare say something perfect, witty, and charming and sweep me off my feet again and give me more mind-blowing orgasms or something. It just won’t work because-“

“Because why?” he lamented, finally getting a word in.

I cried out in anguish. “Because I love you! Because every guy I’ve felt even a little for started out like this! It’s all fun and games and they’re so into me and how wild I am and then they want to lock me up; hide me away from everyone and everything else because they're afraid of losing me. It always destroys it!”

“I’d never try-“

“To do that to me,” I finished. “I know. It’s not you! Don’t you see?”

He just stared at me. I’d never seen him at a loss for words before.

“It’s me! I’m fucking terrified of losing this,” I gestured around me. “Of you! The thought of losing you, of you not being fixated on me, scares me to death. I’m terrified of somebody else catching your eye, of you finding out how boring I really am and losing interest. “

He took a step towards me to hug and console me and I pushed him back with all my might. It didn’t push him away, but he did stop.

“I’m doing the same exact thing my other boyfriend tried to do. It is stifling and smothering and it kills your soul. I can’t do that to you and I know that if I stay one minute more that I’ll fuck it up for good. I’ll hurt myself, hurt you, and try to tame you. I can’t do that to you!”

He pulled me close to him. I tried to fight him off for a second but found myself blubbering into his chest. He held me for a moment and I looked up into his face. He was looking at me softly with only empathy in his eyes.

I kissed him softly and gently pulled his arms from around me. He allowed it. “I’m sorry,” I said to him with new tears forming. “I can’t love you, I just can’t. It hurts too much. Tell Sylva I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry. I can’t. I’ll destroy us.”

I stepped away from him and finally realized that there were at least two dozen people gathered around at a respectful distance. I saw Sylva right beside me; she was crying almost as much as I was. I broke and ran to the parking lot, only looking back once.

He was still standing there, just watching me go.

I got into my car and drove home without stopping once. I was almost home before the tears stopped. I had sworn to myself that I’d never put up with another man or woman that couldn’t accept me for who I am. I decided that if they are so afraid of losing me that they had to lock me away that they did not deserve me. In that moment I realized that I wanted to do the same thing; lock him up and keep him all for myself. I don’t deserve him, by my own definition.

I wish I could say that this has a happy ending, but I’m not pleased with myself. I always do this! I find somebody “safe” to play with and fall for them hard. Either they destroy it, or I do. I had to save him from the calamity that I know would have followed.

I consoled myself with the knowledge that Glade has no shortage of suitors. He’d soon find somebody else to share time with. I consoled myself further with rum, the same rum I purchased recently while with him. I consoled myself even further with ice cream. I then began writing, as a combination of confession and therapy.

He didn’t contact me, yet; if he will at all. I did, however, receive a few texts from Sylva. She offered support and shoulder to cry on, as well as understanding. I asked her how he took things.

Her response set off another crying fit that Rum and Ben & Jerry couldn’t stop. “I think you broke him.”