Page 78 of Lucky Shot
He clucks and I grin. “I just mean that I don’t hate it. It’s not my favorite, but if I’m in the mood and my partner wants to fuck me, I tend to like it enough to enjoy the experience. You know?”
“But you really prefer to top.”
“I do. But again, I don’t hate bottoming.”
“Saying you don’t hate it and actually liking it are two different things, you know.”
“Yes,” he says, laughing. “It’s not my favorite. I don’t hate it. I’ll go so far as to say that there were times that I actually really liked it and I ended with a great orgasm. But, no, I don’t ever initiate that scenario. Better answer?”
“Yes.” I bite my lip, debating whether I’m really pushing this conversation. “You think you’d let me top you?”
“I knew that’s what you really wanted to ask,” he says, amused. “I don’t know, Pretty. Sex to me is kind of situational. The entire thing is…”
When he doesn’t finish, I suggest, “Personal?”
“Yeah. That’s a decent word for it. Intimate is another.”
“It’s okay if you wouldn’t want to,” I tell him. “I’m just as happy being fucked.”
He chuckles. “You don’t have a preference?”
“Nah.” I shake my head, though he can’t see it. “I like both ways pretty equally. I mean, some guys are better in one over the other, so sometimes that dictates where I go, but I’m an equal opportunity switch for sure.”
He laughs again. I love the way my body just ignites at the sound. But something he said is niggling. “Demi?”
“Mhm?”
“I know we’re having fun, you know, virtually and whatever. But… I kind of think that—Well I mean, I feel like maybe we’re moving toward something personal?”
My cheeks feel hot, but my insides twist. What if he says no? There’s every chance that he’s just passing time with me.
“We are,” he says, and I let out an embarrassing loud breath. Then cringe when it echoes back in my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like we weren’t, though I can see how that conversation might have suggested that. But I like where this is going. I like you a lot, Pretty Boy. I love talking to you more than I can ever tell you.”
“But sex is…” I say.
“Yes, sex isn’t always something I’m into.”
“You’re asexual?” I ask, sitting up a little.
“Yes, but… not completely turned off by sex. I’m more…”
“Demisexual?” I ask, thinking of my somewhat recent conversation with Elixon. Does he sound like Lix? I narrow my eyes in suspicion but then discard it as being completely ridiculous. I mean, I met this guy in an online game. Can I imagine Lix playing this kind of game?
I try to picture it and nearly snort. No. I mean, it would kinda be hot, right? But the likelihood that someone I know professionally plays this game,andthat we met and hit it off is so unlikely that I can’t really believe it.
If their voices sound alike - and maybe they do a little - it’s totally just a coincidence. And they probably don’t sound alike at all and I’m just making them sound alike since Lix recently told me he’s demisexual. Maybe a weird part of me thinks all demisexuals have the same voice.
Okay, I actively have to bite my tongue at that thought so I don’t laugh out loud.
“Exactly,” he says and there’s unmistakable relief in his voice.
“Why didn’t you just say so?” I ask, falling back onto my pillows again. “There’s no pressure here, Demi. We don’thave tohave sex. This isn’t about sex.”
“I know that. As far as why I didn’t tell you? I guess it’s just not something I’ve told a lot of people. Being gay is enough of a label. It garners enough attention on its own. I don’t want to add to the list of reasons people watch me. I think I can count the number of people who know I’m demisexual on a single hand.”
“I get it,” I say. More than I care to admit. Especially when I look down at the nightie I’m wearing and the cute panties on under them. “I really do.”
“I’m not ashamed,” he says. “Please don’t think that. And I’m definitely not judging anyone who wants the world to know every single label they claim. But for me? Gay is enough.”
