I stopped mid-way down his shaft and took without missing a beat unwrapped my lips from his cock. Did he really just call me a faggot? Was he really throwing homophobic slurs as I perform oral sex on him? In that moment I felt like Charlotte from Sex in the City when her boyfriend calls her a fucking whore as he climaxed.

“Excuse me, what- what did you just say?”

He stared at me with mild shock, his brow slightly furrowed and his hands touching his hair. I backed up to the other side of the bed and tried to focus on what I was feeling. “What…did you just say to me?” I asked him; more naked than when I removed my underwear.

He just stared at me as I got off the bed and got dressed. I told him I wasn’t in the mood anymore and let myself out the front door. When I got a block away from his apartment I sat down on the bench next to the bus stop and began to pat my face. It seemed as if it had all clicked in that moment. There was a hierarchy and he was attempting to remind me of it.