I’m unsure if she understands that this afternoon was a first for me on many levels, but I’ll have to explain my lack of sexual prowess at some point. Hopefully it won’t put me at a disadvantage compared to Malachy and Patrick.
Women like virgins, right?
My god, I’m so fucked.
I might not know how to do everything right, but I’m a fast learner. More than that, she can teach me how she likes things.
Before meeting Charlotte, I never understood the overwhelming obsession others had with sex. It was just never something I thought about. I certainly wasn’t sex-crazed like Patrick when I was a teenager.
I’ve had fleeting sexual desires on occasion, but I have two fists and suck at human interaction. Jerking off was easier and more appealing than having the conversations necessary to be sexually intimate with someone.
As if I’m not strange enough, all of those things made me stick out even more, but I’ve never allowed it to bother me.
During my late teens, I did research on asexuality, and I think I fit somewhere on that spectrum.
I’ve ebbed and flowed throughout my life, but if I had to pick a term that best described me, I would identify as graysexual.
In the past, if I have been attracted to someone, it was more of a fleeting thought, and I had no real desire to act upon the knowledge that someone was attractive.
That’s why my reaction to Charlotte shocked me to my core.
I always assumed I would join a pack and leave the sexual parts to my brothers. I would be available for emotional intimacy and reassurance, along with cuddles under the right circumstances.
I hoped that would be enough.
After twenty-nine years of life, I finally understand what true sexual desire feels like.
I enjoyed watching Charlotte come.
Having her suck me off was an entirely different level of euphoria.
I no longer wish to be the consolation prize of emotional support while my brothers handle the sexual activities.
I want a multifaceted relationship.
With Charlotte.
The thought is only appealing with her as my partner.
I come around the corner into the living room and freeze.
Malachy is stretched out on the long end of the sectional, and Charlotte is tucked between his arm and his chest. Her leg is tossed over his hip. They’re both focused on the television. Nothing remotely sexual is going on.
It’s a purely domestic moment.
Does physical closeness build emotional intimacy?
Or is it the other way around?
This is one of those moments when I wish I better understood human emotion.
Malachy has his phone next to him on the cushion, and I believe he has Lucky’s monitor feed pulled up so they can keep an eye out for him while watching the end of the movie.
I take a tentative step forward, but my mind gets the better of me.
Would that be intruding on their private moment? Yes, I’m sure it would be.
Would they mind? That’s the part I’m unsure about.
