His flat was sparsely decorated. There was a black, winged-back chair in the living room. I’d never thought about what a winged-back chair was before. But I could see how it got its name.
So we started drinking wine in the afternoon. It seemed to be the right thing to do. There was an inevitability to the day, that released the pressure. Sometimes it is nice to know what is going to happen.
I sat in his black, wing-backed chair. I think it was fake leather. But that didn’t detract from the clean lines of its form. I like a bit of structure. So the death metal in the background was a little… incongruous. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t here for soft mood music and a slow dance. Sometimes fucking needs its own frenetic soundtrack. (But the death metal did contribute to our falling out, not long afterwards. That and the Catholic guilt. The fact he was Canadian didn’t really bother me).
So I sat on his black, fake leather, winged-back chair. I drank his wine. I started to feel comfortable. I let myself relax into the furniture. I seemed to fit just right. Like goldilocks in baby bear’s bed.
It doesn’t matter the order in which my clothes came off. I can’t remember if it was me or him, who took of my shoes, undid my jeans. I don’t really care. The music was loud and I was drunk. This was all heading to where we had to go. I let him find my clit immediately. No point going the long way round. I couldn’t help feeling it was all a bit generation X ish. Maybe it was his Canadian-ness. I wanted to say ‘cool’ and get wasted. But I let him lick me out instead.
I didn’t know it was so easy to have sex in a winged-back chair. He was kneeling on the floor and I sat back and let him fuck me, as simple as that. I hardly had to shift my position. I was looking down at him but I didn’t feel powerful: constrained as I was between the black fake leather arms. I just sat there and took him in. I don’t often describe orgasms as ‘nice’. But this one was.
We zipped up and drank up and headed out of his block of flats, into the Hoxton night, out to a bar where everyone sat on sofas, and looked a little bit too saggy and unsupported. I sat up straight and sipped my pint. I thought about the black fake leather winged back chair and I smiled.