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Have you ever heard the expression "don't shit where you eat?" Well, that's what I did.
Apparently, breakups are a perfect time for people who have been "friends" to try to slide out of the friend zone quickly before they are stuck there forever. Like another dimension, once you're there, you can't turn back.
A couple of weeks later, I'm lying in the bed of one of my coworkers. I would say this is the first time I'm in "his" bed, but that would give the wrong impression. So I'll start from the beginning.
We began talking outside of work, and one thing led to another. I was at his friend's place, who also happens to be someone with whom I work. The reason I wasn't at his place is that he lives a little out of town for another job he has. Yes, I did sleep with one of my coworkers in another coworker’s bed.
This night was messy, and not just for the reasons I just mentioned. I mean physically messy. This was the first time having sex with someone new, and it was great, but once we were finished, the condom, little did I know, stayed inside me. Panic mode set in. I stood up to look for it, and everything came out all over the bed. There was cum everywhere—all over the bed and me. I start thinking that I was pregnant. I must be. So I panicked all night and decided I was taking Plan B in the morning.
The next morning comes and the coworker whose bed I'm in comes home. He knew we were there, but the level of awkward was unreal. I told the guy I had just slept with to get Plan B. So I sat in one co-worker's bed, waiting for the other to come back with Plan-B. I wish I could say that was the first and last time that I had taken it. It wasn’t.
A month later, he takes me on a trip out of town for the weekend. He booked a honeymoon room. When we arrived, there were roses and chocolates all over the bed. It was sweet, but we were not even officially dating at this point. We spent the weekend together, went to bars, restaurants, and did some shopping and had sex. I know it sounds pretty good, but while having sex, he asked me if he could take the condom off. I’m not sure if I even said yes, but it happened, anyway. He also said he would pull out and didn’t.
So, for the second night, I’m lying in bed, panicking because this guy didn’t want to wear a condom. This time was worse. He came inside me with no protection. This is unbelievable, I thought to myself, I need to take Plan-B for the second time in two months.
The next day, I told him to get me Plan-B because he fully came inside me. He said no! He said we could go when we were back home. We drove home, about two hours, and I kept reminding him that we needed to stop. He didn’t stop. He dropped me off at home. I was so mad, I could not bring myself to remind him again. I went inside and spoke to my roommates and they agreed that I needed to go to the pharmacy. I ended up going, buying it myself, and taking it later that evening.
When he texted me later, I ignored him; I didn’t want to be with a guy who left me stranded after being so careless. Nevertheless, he kept trying to call me and text me. I ended up calling him out on it. He was apologetic. After all, he was my co-worker, and I couldn’t ghost him. I continued to go out with him for a few months before I finally ended it for good!