nth sign of compulsory heteronormativity
Power imbalance in sexual interactions with men.
I was always the one leading. I always had control over the situation. They had no clue.
It made me smug, and disgusted, yet I pushed that down. Pretended I didn't feel it, never let is show on my face lest it ruined their mood. A hassle. A chore, to cater to their fragile pride, to know that they relied on me. It made me wonder— am I the proverbial asshole here? Am I the cruel one? What the hell is wrong with me?
I would lie through my teeth about how I enjoyed it, so I wouldn't break their ego. I would gush about how hot it was, ignoring the little voice in my head begging me to stop, and swallow the bile rising in my throat with a smile that was at odds with the coldness in my eyes.
I would leave feeling empty. Filthy. Fake. Nauseous.