The Aftermath

So after Mr. Math and I did the deed, I was elated. I was proud of myself for going after what I had so badly wanted, and also was euphoric that the sex had been so fantastic. Any time I thought about how he had a girlfriend, I just thought to myself:

"Hah! I fucked your boyfriend. And you have NO IDEA."

This line of thinking, while completely awesome, was unfortunately short-lived. I started to want more from Mr. Math. I was thinking that our time together had been so awesome, that he must be thinking about what it would be like to be with me. Even if it was only just a little bit.

So I started chatting with him on Facebook, to try to find out what he was thinking about the whole thing. It wasn't pretty.

Mr. Math: That one hour that we spent together... or however long it was... it can't exist. My girlfriend can't find out about it. I already cheated on her once before, and she took me back. This time, it would be over, and I don't want that.

By this point, he had called me, and we were talking on the phone.

Mr. Math: You sound... angry. Or sad. Or something.
Me: I guess... I'm disappointed, because I had a really great time.
Mr. Math: And if I'm ever single again, we can totally hook up again. But for now, I just consider you a really good friend. Sometimes I'm a jerk like that and start to pursue my really good friends who are girls. I'm sorry that I did that to you, and I wish I could make it up to you, and I wish that it had never happened.

Ok, first of all, when I said that I had had a really great time, that was supposed to imply that I liked him. However, he mistook that to mean that I had just really liked the sex. Which I had, but I also really liked him.

Second of all, I was really disappointed in this outcome. I could understand how he wanted to stay with his girl, but to say that he wished that we hadn't had sex? That he regretted it so much that he wanted to pretend that it hadn't happened? I was crushed. If the sex hadn't been so amazing, I would have thought that he hadn't enjoyed it or something. But I knew that that hadn't been the case.

I didn't see much of Mr. Math after that. In fact, the only other time I saw him that semester was when we met for coffee one day. This was about a month after the deed, and it was very awkward. The only reason I suggested meeting for coffee in the first place was because he had totally booty-called me a few nights prior. He had texted me at 2 am saying, "Hey are you still awake?"

Totally a booty-call.

I wanted to call him out on it and see how he explained it.

Mr. Math: It wasn't a booty-call. I actually kind of thought that you might think that it was, but since you didn't respond to my first text I didn't think I should double-text you to clarify.

Yeah, uh huh. I called bullshit. He was just denying that it was a booty-call because he hadn't changed his mind about staying with his girlfriend.

Anyway, that was all I saw of him until the end of the summer. More on that later.

Right now, I will discuss The Problem. You see, Mr. Math and I had had sex a week before Spring Break. Since I was going home for the week, I decided to go to the gyno and investigate the crime-scene bleeding that had occurred.

Gyno: The last time that you had sex... was it... animalistic?
Me: *blush* yes...
Gyno: Well, then I know for sure what happened. You have a laceration on your vaginal wall. It was caused by the rapid penetration during the sex.

Fucking hell. Mr. Math had ripped my vagina.

The gyno told me that I couldn't have sex until it was healed. I wasn't even allowed to wear tampons.

Fucking hell. Fuck Mr. Math. That really sucked a fat long cock.