Found another of Tyrone's posts. He's finally getting honest about his 'secret desires.' The ones he was too ashamed to whisper in my ear while I was riding him. He writes about his 'fascination' with the idea of watching me with a well-endowed Black man. The irony is delicious. All those nights he'd go quiet after sex, his mind clearly elsewhere. I thought it was just his usual post-coital melancholy. Turns out, he was probably picturing his girlfriend's pussy stretched around a cock that made his look like a cocktail sausage. The truth is, Ty, I knew. I always knew. The way your eyes would glaze over when we'd see a tall, muscular Black man walk by. The way you'd stammer if I ever mentioned a friend's new boyfriend. You weren't just attracted to the idea. You were terrified of it. Because if you admitted you wanted to see me taken by a real man, you'd have to admit you were never one yourself. Go ahead, write your confession. I'll be busy living out the fantasy you were too much of a coward to ask for. My current lover doesn't write. He just fills me up so completely that all I can do is scream his name. And no, it's not yours.