Page 122 of For Real

The idea of it turned my stomach. It wasn’t that I had any objections to the principle—after Robert, I’d shared and been shared willingly enough—it was just…Toby was mine and I was his, and I never wanted to choose between sex and intimacy again. “Absolutely not.”

“So”—Toby made his eyes very big and gazed at me imploringly—“can we go?”

“I don’t understand why you want to.”

He gave me one of his duh looks. “So I can say I’ve been to a sex party, obviously.”

“And that’s something you expect to come up in conversation, is it?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I just can’t see any reason not to go.”

I could have given him twenty, but I could also see that my resistance, rather than discouraging him, was only contributing to his curiosity. And I’d promised him only that morning: anything he wanted to do. So I surrendered. “All right, we can go.” He squeaked excitedly. “But, Toby…I need… I’m sorry… Can we talk about some things?”

“Laurie, we can talk about anything.”

I closed my eyes. This felt juvenile. Embarrassing. Something I should have been able to navigate with more sophistication. Toby was young. He deserved his adventures. But I knew, on instinct and from experience, I wasn’t the right person to share them. “Toby…I can’t… I don’t want you… Look, you have to promise you won’t…give me to anyone.”

His mouth dropped open. “You’re not a box of After Eight mints.”

“I know, but I’m your…you know…” I didn’t even want to say it. I hated those words. Sub. Dom. Lovers, we were lovers. “The expectations can be different.”

He gazed at me solemnly. Eyes so very blue. “Laurie, I promise. That’s totally not me. Thing is, I’m a greedy little shit. You’re mine, and I’m keeping you.”

I hoped he was right, and I was wrong.

* * *

But from the moment we arrived at the party, I knew it had been a mistake to come.

As I’d warned Toby, it was a room full of strangers fucking and hitting each other. Everything smelled rather heavily of disinfectant. But Toby glanced round curiously and without repulsion, which made me wonder what he saw that I had long decided was mere façade.

Sexual liberty. Twenty-first century decadence. Exploration, acceptance, fulfilment.

The whole of the moon?

We picked our way through the moving bodies until we found the chill-out space. Toby’s hand was tucked into mine.

“Are you all right?” I asked him.

“I think so.” He frowned, his nose wrinkling. “It’s just kind of weird, isn’t it? Like, you know, when you’re sober and everybody else is drunk? It’s like that except with bonking.”

I found a corner and drew him down onto a mound of brightly coloured cushions. “It’s less weird if you’re involved. But it’s not really my thing.”

“I’m feeling way too sheltered right now.” He stretched out, resting his head in my lap. “Obviously there was stuff going on at Pervocracy as well, but it felt like a nightclub with sex. Whereas this is just people wandering around, sometimes with their bits hanging out.”

I ran my fingers idly through his hair. “I know it looks like sexual anarchy, but there’s etiquette and rules and boundaries. You don’t have to be…a…be an all-you-can-eat buffet. You can just be with your partner or your friends. Nearly all of these people already know each other. It’s actually a pretty exclusive group of perverts.”

He hummed at the back of his throat, pressing into my touch, I think for comfort as much as pleasure. “Do you know them?”

“Most of them a bit. Although I wouldn’t call them friends.”

Grace and Sam found us a few minutes later. Sam was shirtless, fresh nail marks glowing on his arms and shoulders, and Grace was wearing a polka-dotted halter neck dress that looked eminently removable. She put her hands on her hips.

“Oh wow, look at you two. You look like the old guys in the box in The Muppets.”

“Statler and Waldorf,” I supplied.

“Toby, just because Laurie is one of life’s hecklers doesn’t mean you have to be.” She held out her hand to him and pulled him to his feet, away from me. “This is your first time, right?”

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