A contract? What kind of contract? I have a million questions and my heart starts to pound a million miles a minute. The wind comes off the ocean. My whole body starts to shiver, but I’m entirely sure that it has nothing to do with the balmy Caribbean air. No, this is something else. Anxiety, mixed with anticipation and excitement.

“What are you talking about, Mr. Black?” I ask. He hasn’t been Mr. Black for a while. I won’t lie, it’s nice to have him back. These past few months have been filled with so much complicated shit that it’s nice to step away from reality for a moment. Or evening. Or a few days.

“I want you to sign a contract to be mine for the duration of this trip,” Aiden says. His voice is lower now. More stern. He’s starting to embody Mr. Black.

“And what would that entail?”

“You would do everything that I tell you to do when I tell you to do it,” he says. His eyes are laser-focused on mine.

“Everything?” I ask.

“Everything.”

At first, I’m not sure how to respond. But after a moment, I flash him a smile. He takes my arm in his and pulls me to his stateroom. My heart skips a few beats as I follow him.

---

***

I sit down on the edge of his large, California king bed and he walks over to the large oak desk in the corner. A few moments later, he hands me a contract.

---

I will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit by Mr. Black except those previously negotiated.

I will agree to wear whatever clothing deemed fit by Mr. Black.

I will accompany Mr. Black wherever he wishes to go.

I agree to follow these terms for the following duration: ______.

---

There is a place for me to initial at every line and sign at the bottom. My head spins for a moment.

---

“What is this?” I ask.

“The contract. Something for us to experiment with while we are on this trip.”

“I thought we would just have fun,” I say.

“Yes, we will.”

“So, why do we need this?”

“To make it more official.”

Honestly, I have no idea how I feel about this. Make things more official? I already postponed the engagement.

“This doesn’t feel right, Aiden,” I say after a moment. He looks disappointed.

“What don’t you like about it?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure what sexual activities I’m agreeing to and which ones I’m rejecting.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles. “Here’s the second page with hard limits that I propose.”

“Hard limits?”

“Things that you are not willing to do. Please feel free to add anything else you can think of.”

---

No defecation or urination.

No blood.

No medical instruments of any kind.

No illegal acts of any kind.

No acts that will leave a permanent mark on the skin.

---

I stare at the list of hard limits. None of them even seem like something anyone would want to do. I don’t really know why they need to be specifically outlined in a contract.

“What do you think?” Aiden asks, handing me a pen.

But I shake my head. Suddenly, a fun trip on a luxurious super-yacht doesn’t seem that appealing after all.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a moment.

I shake my head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I shrug my shoulder. But that’s a lie. The truth is that I can’t do this.

“I’m not this person,” I say after a while. “The thing is that I’m not someone who wants to sign any sort of contract to have sex with a man I love.”

Aiden looks away, running his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Clearly, I did.”

“Well, maybe a little,” I say. “But it doesn’t matter.”

He takes the contract and rips it up.

“What are you doing?”

“The thing is that was just for fun,” he says with a shrug. “The truth is that I want to be with you. That’s all.”

“Without any paperwork?”

“Without any paperwork.”

My eyes light up at the thought. I want to be with him, too. And actually, I wouldn’t mind doing something a little bit more adventurous sexually. I just don’t think I want to put it on paper.