“Okay, go off, queen.”
Their wings flared, flicking in annoyance, and he decided to stop goading them.
“So, is there porn you like watching?” he asked, purely to satisfy selfish curiosity.
“Porn?” they said significantly, gesturing to the laptop. “No. But pornographical imagery to educate or to depict art and beauty? Yes. I may not feel sexual gratification, but I am still a person who experiences beauty and pleasure in this world.”
And, hold up, they were in untrodden territory now.
“Uh, can you rewind a sec?” he asked as Zef disappeared in their bathroom.
“I do not wish to split hairs on what does or does not constitute pornography, Bryce.”
“That’s not what I meant. About the, uh, sexual gratification.”
They stepped back into their bedroom and splayed all four hands. “And what about that would you like me to elaborate on?”
“All of it,” he demanded.
“I do not feel sexual gratification,” they repeated.
Straightening, Bryce pantomimed with his hands. “Elaborate more please.”
Their lower hands fisted on their hips as their upper arms crossed over their chest. “I do not feel it. I cannot feel it. My body is incapable of feeling it.”
“And when you say,it?”
“Orgasm, Bryce,” they said, volume jumping several notches. “I do not orgasm. Mantodeas do not orgasm. Our bodies lack the ability to, aside from mutations or genetic abnormalities. It is probably one of the driving factors for why we do not fuck.
“Now”—they smiled demurely at him—“was that elaborate enough?”
They disappeared back into their bathroom as Bryce stood in the doorway in shock. His brain glitched as he worked to wrap it around the idea of an entire species beingincapableof achieving sexual pleasure. Though, he supposed it made sense on an evolutionary basis, since they could impregnate themselves and, thus, had no reason to engage in sex at all.
But still… What?
“You can’t come?” Bryce cried, and Zef sighed, long and forlorn, like their life was immeasurably difficult.
Their head popped back into view. “No, Bryce, I cannot.”
“Not even when you’re alone?” he said stupidly.
Their expression was definitely patronizing as they said, “Do you spontaneously orgasm when you are alone?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do not,” they said.
Embarrassed now, Bryce mumbled out, “You know, masturbation.”
“Ancestors give me strength,” they lamented. “I know what youmeant. I was answering your question. No, I do not masturbate. If I tried, it would not accomplish anything because I can not, do not, will not ever achieve orgasm. Nor would it be pleasurable or productive to attempt it.”
“I think my brain is breaking,” he admitted, and Zef grinned in amusement.
“That is because you have penis-brain, ruled by sexual hormones and base animal urges, so you cannot fathom someone like me who has abrain-brain.” They grimaced. “And now I must live the rest of my life knowing I have uttered those words in that specific sequence aloud.”
“I think I need a minute,” Bryce whispered.
They pressed their top hands together, as if in prayer. “Wonderful, now I can finish cleaning my bathroom.”
