There was a point in the beginning when I caught him off guard.
Full of his cum, sweaty and spent, I crawled up him to get under his arm and snuggle into him. He held me awkwardly. His big arms wrapped and re-wrapped around me in an attempt at feeling natural.
Laughingly he said, "I don't know how to hold you".
Understandable. I'm not his wife after all. I don't come home from work to his hugs. He can't reach out to touch me whenever he needs me. I don't fall asleep listening to his heartbeat.
He is just a fuck. I am just a fuck.
Was. Were.
There was a time when he said "I don't know how to hold you".
Now, he tells me, "I don't know how to let you go".