by TT Kove
‘Why is this still bothering you?’ I put my chin down on his shoulder and grabbed onto his upper arm with my hand. ‘I am happy with you. I’ve never been as happy as I am when I’m with you. That’s not going to change whether we have sex again or not.’
‘You sure about that?’ He swallowed. ‘Because I can—you know, do it, but only sometimes. Like, occasionally. Rarely. If you need it.’
‘But you don’t want it,’ I pointed out.
‘But you do. So we got to compromise somewhere.’
Clearly Chad’s comments two days ago was still stuck in his head.
‘I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.’
‘How come?’ He turned his head slightly, but otherwise I couldn’t see anything. He liked to keep the room completely dark when he slept, so even if it hadn’t been night out, I still wouldn’t have been able to see a thing.
‘Because it feels like I’m sort of forcing you into doing something you don’t want. And that’s what I’ve suffered my entire life, isn’t it? I don’t want to do that to you.’ I still wasn’t over what Andrew had done to me. I never would be.
‘That’s not the same at all.’
I could picture him frowning now. He had that tone of voice.
‘It sort of is. You’re forcing yourself to do something you don’t want to do to make me happy. Sure, it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close.’
‘I’m offering.’
‘Yeah. You are. But you’re offering something you don’t really want to give.’ I really wished he’d liked it, that he’d figured out sex was good and worth it, after all, but I knew he hadn’t. And if he hadn’t our first time, he wouldn’t a second or third or fourth.
He was silent for a while.
I moved around so I could rest more comfortably. He even lifted his arm and stretched it out so I could rest on it, then wrapped it around me once I was snug against him.
‘If it’s you, I want to give that to you occasionally. Not once a week or once a months, maybe, but…’ He swallowed heavily again. ‘Special occasions, perhaps, like your birthday. Our anniversary. Something like that.’
I contemplated that. I wasn’t sure if he felt pressured to offer this or if he genuinely wanted to give it to me. Even if I could’ve seen his facial expressions, it wouldn’t be easy to read him. He was always so stoic, expressionless.
‘Two times a year. I can live with that. Even once a year, really. Or not at all.’ I added the last one because I wanted to give him an out. I didn’t want to put any pressure on him. This was… delicate.
And no matter what he said, there were parallels to the abuse I’d suffered for over a decade. I’d been forced to have sex against my will.
Damian was offering to have sex with me… but the fact was that he still didn’t actually want to have sex. And that didn’t sit well with me. Even if I wasn’t forcing him, he was forcing himself, and force and sex… that didn’t belong together.
‘Maybe we can just let this lie for now?’ I suggested when he didn’t say anything else. ‘We did it. I thought it was great. You didn’t. We’re good. And now we can just continue on with our lives. If you feel up to it… then we can have sex, but unless you’re not into it I’m not—I mean, I am going to be into it no matter what because it’s sex with you—but I mean, like, I’m going to feel bad afterwards.’
‘You have nothing to feel bad for.’
‘Yeah, I do,’ I said quietly. ‘I feel bad for you. That you had to force yourself to go through with sex for me. You’ve tried it now and it wasn’t for you. So… isn’t that the end of it?’
He rubbed his forehead with his free hand, while the other tightened on my shoulder.
‘You’re right. It’s not for me. But I still can—and once in a while I want to do it for you. With you. Whatever.’ He shook his head. ‘Like I said, compromise.’
‘Like Chad said,’ I pointed out drily. ‘And you shouldn’t listen to him. Not when it comes to sex. He can’t live without it—but I can. I mean, yeah, I’ve got the dildo now and all, but that’s enough for me. It’s good.’
‘You’ve… tried it?’ He sounded incredulous.
My face flushed a little.
‘Uh, yeah.’ I cleared my throat self-consciously. ‘Same day we had sex, actually. That morning, in the shower.’
‘And…’
I could almost hear the gears in his head working as he thought about this.
‘And was it… satisfactory?’
I stifled a laugh.
‘It was, yeah.’
‘Does it… compare… to the real deal?’
He really wasn’t comfortable talking about this. And he very clearly avoided triggering words.
‘Nothing can compare to the real deal, not really.’ I had to be honest. Honesty was my new motto in life. Had been since I was sixteen. Always be honest about my feelings. Therapy had drilled that into my head. ‘The act itself, using it to…’
How was I going to avoid true words talking about this? I didn’t want to embarrass him, but I couldn’t skip over them either.
‘Using a dildo to fuck yourself is good. It is a dick, even if it’s not flesh and bone and blood. But as for the whole experience… using your own hand to fuck yourself with a dildo can’t compare to the feeling of having another human being pressed up against you, feeling their warmth, their hands on you, their lips, their taste, just being enveloped by the person you love… that’s what makes it so special.’
That’s what had made yesterday so special for me. Feeling him naked against me like that… I could’ve probably come from just that without any penetration.
‘A dildo can never replicate that. It gives pleasure—it feels really good when it rubs over your prostate. Right then it doesn’t matter if it’s a dildo or a real dick, you just want to chase that orgasm. And the orgasm itself is great. But it feels kind of lonely afterwards when you don’t have anyone to cuddle with. When you’re all alone in the bed and the dildo’s done its purpose.’
He hadn’t moved at all as I spoke, probably sorting through everything I’d said.
‘Cuddle I can do.’
I blinked.
‘Like in general? Or…’ Did he mean what I thought he meant? ‘You want to cuddle me after I’ve used the dildo?’
‘Yeah, I could do that,’ he answered immediately.
I licked my lips as I digested this.
‘Oh-okay.’ Did that mean he would be okay with me using the dildo in our bed when he was in it?
‘But if you want to have sex, real sex with another person and not just a prop,’ he started then. ‘I can do it. Maybe it could be your birthday present or something.’
Now I couldn’t stop the snorted laugh that left me.
‘Sex as a birthday present?’ Silver and Kian and Chad would laugh their arses off at this, but… ‘That’s fine with me. If you want to give me sex for my birthday, you’re free to. But only if you really want to—or else you can just get me a normal present. I won’t mind.’
He chuckled slightly.
‘I don’t want that for my birthday present though.’
‘You won’t be getting it either.’ I rubbed his chest affectionately. ‘Maybe if you begged. But only maybe.’ I pressed my face into his chest, smothering my smile.
‘Yeah, that’s not ever going to happen.’ I heard the smile in his voice as well. ‘Me begging, that is.’
‘Doesn’t sound like you, no.’ I nuzzled his chest with my nose now, feeling clingy and affectionate and happy.
I still felt a little uneasy with him offering sex when I knew he didn’t care for it, but it wouldn’t happen again anytime soon, so I’d deal with it later. For now we were good.
He tightened his arm around me again—and then turned over onto his side so we were all-out hugging.
I brushed my lips over his cheek.
‘I love you so much,’ I whispered. ‘Two years ago I never thought I’d have this. I’d never had a
single friend, much less a boyfriend. Now I’ve got several friends—and you, all to myself.’
‘The friendships are all you though.’
‘No, they’re not. If I’d never met you, I wouldn’t have made friends of any of them.’ I’d met most fo them through him, after all. Silver was his best mate, Kian was Silver’s boyfriend. He worked with Leslie and Spencer, and Chad was the nephew of his boss. Who was also my mum’s girlfriend—but they never would’ve met if I hadn’t met Damian either.
The only friend I could’ve made without meeting him would be Tyler, but if I hadn’t had Damian in my life back then would I have been able to handle Mal’s death at all? If he hadn’t been in my life, I might’ve just killed myself to get the hurt over with back then.
‘I think we’re good for each other.’ I slid my hand up his neck to play with the short hairs in the nape of his neck. ‘You help make me a little bit more stable. You give me love and thanks to you I’ve got several friends. And I make you a tiny little bit more sociable.’
He chuckled.
‘That sounds about right. And for the record, I really love you too. I wouldn’t have done any of this if I hadn’t. I wouldn’t have done it with anyone else ever, I think. You’re just special.’
My heart squeezed in happiness. I wasn’t sure I believed him though. If we’d never met… he still could’ve met someone else to fall in love with. Someone not as messed up as me. But I was glad he’d stopped that night and offered me a place to stay. Both our lives had changed for the better that night.
And it was all from him acting all out of character.
I couldn’t even begin to describe how grateful I was that he hadn’t left me there on my own in the rain.
Damian
Josh was so relaxed in sleep. His face was calm, lips parted every-so-slightly. One arm was tucked under the pillow, under his cheek. The other rested parallel to his chest.
He only wore a T-shirt and his scars were in full view—but I didn’t mind them. I never had. He was my Josh, and his scars told a story of pain and survival. He’d survived so much. He was still here.
And today we’d been together for two years.
They hadn’t been an easy two years… but I’d sure been happier these last twenty four months than I’d ever been before I met him.
When considering that, was sex once in a while really such a big deal? I wanted him to be as happy as I was. He shouldn’t have the be the one to give up sex. A relationship was give and take, wasn’t it? I’d proven I could do it. If I hadn’t been able to, that would be another situation all together, but… we had had sex. There was nothing wrong with me down there. It was all in my head.
And yes, it was boring and unnecessary and I didn’t see the point… but it hadn’t been bad. I hadn’t been repulsed, which some who identified as asexual was according to Google. It was embarrassing, yes, but I could work through that so Josh got what he wanted sometimes too.
It was selfish to refuse him sex with another person when I didn’t really care. It wasn’t so bad having sex with him. He’d enjoyed it—and I’d enjoyed seeing him enjoy it.
I stroked a hand through his hair. He still hadn’t cut it and it was getting really shaggy now. It stuck up in the back, all ruffled, so he must’ve had moved around during the night.
He made a small sound in the back of his throat and his eyes moved behind his eyelids.
I leaned over to kiss his cheek.
‘Happy anniversary,’ I said in a low voice.
‘Mmm.’ He stretched out and I pulled back to my own side of the bed to watch him as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. When he turned over on his side again and looked at me, he was pretty much awake. ‘Happy anniversary.’ He smiled sweetly. ‘Two years… who would’ve thought that?’
I reached for his hair again, tangling my fingers in it.
‘I wouldn’t have thought that two years ago.’
‘You weren’t very sociable back then.’ He put his hand over mine, stroking my skin softly with his fingers.
‘I’m not very sociable now,’ I pointed out drily.
‘Mmm, true.’ He sighed and closed his eyes, hand still caressing the one I had tangled in his hair.
I licked my lips nervously.
‘Since it’s our anniversary today, we can—you know—if you want.’
His eyes blinked open and he stared at me.
‘Can I make a counter-offer?’
‘Uh—’ What? Was this a business transaction? ‘Yeah, sure.’
‘How about you just—’ He bit down on his bottom lip, gaze straying. ‘You could try wanking me off?’ He finally looked at me again then, eyes wide and sort of… nervous. ‘That way you don’t have to get naked. Or have actual sex. And I’ll—I’ll get to come anyway, so I’ll be sated.’
Wanking him off…
That would only involve my hand. On his dick.
I’d had sex with him. Just using my hand shouldn’t really be a big deal compared to that. That’d involved nakedness and penetration and bodily fluids and lube and everything. This… this should be relatively easy.
‘Oh-okay.’
I had no idea what to do now though.
Part of me was relieved I didn’t have to get naked and hard, but if we’d done that I would know what to do. We’d already tried it. But just using my hand… I’d never done that before. I didn’t have anything to compare too—not even to what it felt like on myself.
‘Damian.’ He smiled and scooted in closer. ‘This… is easy. Compared to anything else, this is a piece of cake.’ He grabbed my hand now, the one still tangled in his hair, and slowly moved it down his body.
I swallowed heavily—but let him steer my hand without resisting.
He watched me intensely as he slid both our hand under the hem of his pyjama bottoms. He was already hard, dick straining against the tight boxers he wore and he lined my palm up to press against the length of it.
‘Does it feel weird?’
I nodded jerkily, unable to quite look at him now, instead staring down at where my arm disappeared under the duvet.
‘Want to get rid of the duvet?’ he asked, clearly reading my mind. ‘Or is it better for you if you don’t have to see?’
‘Take it off.’
I had to see if I wanted to learn—and it wasn’t like I had any problem with watching him naked. I was studying to become a doctor; I couldn’t really have issue with seeing anything, anywhere, on anyone.
But this wasn’t like that. This was my boyfriend. And I couldn’t be clinically unattached to him no matter what. Sure, I wouldn’t get aroused no matter what, but I wanted to please him, wanted him to feel good…
He kicked the duvet down.
I flexed my fingers and in the process pressed my palm further against his dick. My fingers also brushed against his balls.
‘Should I take them off as well?’ He indicated his pyjama bottoms.
I nodded—and removed my hand so he could do that. He kicked them off as well, now only lying there in his tee and boxers. They were black, thin, his erection clearly outlined.
‘This too?’ He touched the waistband of said boxers hesitantly.
No big deal.
I’ve already seen him naked.
I’ve fucked him, all naked, all over.
I nodded again.
He didn’t kick his boxers off though, just pulled them down enough to free the essential parts.
‘You’ve never done this before, right?’
He already knew the answer to that, so I didn’t know why he asked. Instead of answering, I put a hand on his stomach, inching it down to brush my fingers over the hard length. Then I thought to hell with it and wrapped my hand around him.
He drew in a sharp breath, then slowly let it out.
‘Now what do I do?’ I asked, afraid to do something wrong.
He cleared his throat.
‘You can squeeze a little tighter—just a bit—and then stroke down.’ Ther
e was a slight intonation at the end there, as if he asked a question instead of telling me.
I did as told. The foreskin revealed a flushed mushroom head as I stroked it down, hid it again as I stroked up, and when it was revealed again a drop of pre-come leaked from his slit.
He chewed on his bottom lip.
‘You can go quicker. If you like.’
‘It’s a bit awkward.’ The angle was all wrong. ‘It’s my left hand.’
‘Oh.’ He pushed up on his elbow, then straddled my lap for a second before he lay down on my other side.
I stretched my left hand out for him to rest on, and when he did, I wrapped it around his shoulder. We were close now and I wrapped my right hand around him instead. That was much better, angle-wise and all. It still felt weird to hold an erect dick in my hand. Weird to stroke him off. But he liked it, that much was clear.
He’d buried his head against my neck and his breathing had sped up.
‘Does it really feel that good?’ I asked against his hair.
‘Ye-yeah,’ he stammered.
It was kind of… fascinating, in its own way. With him, anyway. It was only mortifying when I caught certain other people in the act.
‘Am I doing it right?’ I was just stroking up and down in quick succession. What the hell was so good about that?
He only nodded jerkily.
‘Squeeze a little more. Twist a bit—ah!’
When I’d done as he requested, I kissed his temple before resting my cheek against his.
His dick was all kinds of slick thanks to pre-come. It made sort of squishy sounds as I stroked and it was sticky, but all I focused on was Josh’s hot body against mine, how his chest rose and fell as he panted, the feel of his hot breath puffing against my neck.
His arms went around me and he clutched at my tee, hips bucking into my hand. Then, without any warning, he came—coating my hand and both our tees.
I hesitantly released him, not sure if it was the right thing to do or not. He’d come, sure, but should I continue to stroke him? Or would the orgasm make him too sensitive?
He pressed up snug against me—putting my inner worries to rest somewhat—and I wrapped my arms around him too, squeezing him tight. It was only then I realised one of my hands were full of semen… but he was so warm and pliant and comfortable against me I tried to push that niggle away.