“There’s nothing I would want more, baby, but I gotta tell you something important.”
“Gage, do you have a girlfriend or wife you’re not telling me about?” she asked, obviously annoyed.
“No, no I don’t,” I replied.
“Then cut all this Prince Charming shit out for a good thirty minutes and fuck me, nigga.”
See, that’s what I mean. This woman was everything. Beautiful and gentle like a flower, but her thorns will prick you to get yourattention. She gripped my dick and prepared her body to slide down my shaft, halting her by her waist and staring her deeply in the eyes. I said, “I’ve never done this before.”
“You never did what, fuck on the couch?” she asked. I can tell she knew that wasn't what I meant, but she was hopeful.
“I’ve never had sex before, Mahasin.”
She rested her beautiful eyes on me for what seemed like forever. For a moment, I felt like she pitied me, as if I was now less than a man to her. I started to feel low until she let out the most boisterous laugh, causing my eyes to widen.
“Alright, Gage, ha ha ha, very funny. Boy, let go of me and let me do me.”
I halted her attempt to place my dick at her opening once again and stared at her sincerely. Did I want Mahasin to be my first? Absolutely. But I needed her to understand how special she was to me. I had held on to my virginity for all this time because I couldn’t find the right one, and now here she is, perfect and mine.
“Wait, Gage, are you serious?”
I nodded my head yes and watched as her once-bright eyes dimmed. She got off me and took a seat on the couch next to me.
“Gage, why would you bring me home with you for a one-night stand, knowing you are a virgin?” Tears began to form in her eyes.
“Mahasin,” I tried to calm her, but she cut me off mid-sentence.
“And here I am forcing myself on you, possibly making you extremely uncomfortable. Shit! I am so sorry, Gage, I would have never been all over you had I known. Why did you pursue me at the bar? Why would you want your first time to be a one-night stand?” She stood up as she asked all these questions, big tears now streaming from her eyes, and she reached to put back on her panties.
“I swear I am not a bad person. This isn’t even my style. I’m hurting from that bullshit with my ex. Can I even call him my ex? ’Cause the nigga is married, and his wife knew nothing of their separation. Fuck! Gage, I am so sorry.”
I reached over, taking her panties from her hand, and tossed them back on the floor. The fact that they landed neatly on my folded pile was oddly satisfying.
“Dollface,” I said, standing.
“Mahasin,” she said, wiping her tears.
“Dollface,” I replied, taking her into my arms. “My first time is not attached to longevity. My only wish was that my first time be with somebody I would never regret.”
“But why me?” she asked.
“You make me feel safe, comfortable, and yet nervous at the same time. You have me wanting to show the world how much I want to love you, yet kill a nigga for even looking at you too long. Your presence defies whatever neurological differences that come with my Autism.”
She seemed to calm down until I said that last part, then she erupted in tears.
“God, it’s me again. Now I realize I came to you asking for forgiveness because I didn’t know the last idiot was married. But I swear I didn’t know this one was a virgin and Autistic—not that he’s an idiot. You know I wouldn’t play with such a perfect design of a man you’ve created. Lord, please, please don’t send me to Hell.”
Her last plea hung in the air, a chaotic mix of comedy and genuine distress. I stood there, holding her close, waiting for the prayer to finish, and silently chuckled.
God, it's me again.That line felt like a punch to the gut. The fact that Mahasin's most immediate, panic-induced reaction was to apologize to God for the mess she perceived herself to be in—not for being a sexual aggressor, but for accidentally gettinginvolved with a virgin who was Autistic—showed me exactly who she was. She wasn't judging me; she was judging herself for potentially hurting me.
Her shoulders were shaking, the tears and snot wetting my chest. I released one of my arms from around her and gently cupped her cheek, tilting her face up toward mine.
“Hey. Look at me, Dollface,” I said, my voice low and steady. I ignored the fact that I was fully naked, and she was clutching onto me like the last pack of Hawaiian rolls on the shelves. “Stop talking to the ceiling.”
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes told her shame.
“Stop,” I repeated, giving her cheek a light squeeze. “You have nothing to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn'tmakeme do anything. You know why I told you?” I paused, letting the reality sink in. “Because I wanted you to know how special you are to me. God could rewrite this whole ordeal and place me in that bar with seven women who would promise to love me forever, and my choice would always be you, Mahasin St. James.”
