I had dated occasionally within the theatre crowd, but nothing serious had ever developed. So, I wasn't expecting too much from this new guy past a one-night stand. But it had been a while since I'd had someone in bed. And this someone had quite a large hand rested on the bar top. I wondered the rumor was true in his situation. If so, I wasn't sure if that thrilled or scared me.We had barely stepped outside before he put his hand behind my head and kissed me. He was surprisingly soft and gentle. How it belied the man I would later find out he really was.He hailed a cab back to my apartment where he definitely did not disappoint. In between a couple of rounds of great sex, we talked about my classes and the play. How he thought I'd been robbed by not getting the lead when I so obviously deserved it.In retrospect, I had made a mistake by telling him that I liked the pain he inflicted. I discovered that his sadistic tendencies far surpassed my masochistic ones, terms I also didn't understand until far later. The memories of those last sessions with him would haunt me for years. I was so naïve.I graduated and got my degree just over a year into the relationship, not counting the first two months since I had met him. Things noticeably went downhill. It wasn't like the summer before.