I dig my hands into my pockets. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Although I don’t need to think about that.
Even if there is something exciting about it.
Maybe not in a super-public place where you could hear mechanical whirring. Maybe a movie theater or a bar—
“Should we get it?” Romy asks, waving the package.
It’s a little like what I imagine being tased is like, that shock. Is she—no, she has to be—
She starts laughing. “Roth, I’m joking!”
I turn bright red as Romy puts the panties back. Bright red because I feel so gullible. Bright red as I fail to send away the little burning pit in my stomach her comment ignited.
I turn to the dildo display, the smoothest pivot I can think of in a store filled with nonplatonic items. “Hey, Rom?”
She turns away from another novelty vibrator. “Yeah?”
“How do sapphics have sex? Like with men and women and men and men it’s kinda obvious. Is there a home run?”
Romy makes a face and walks over to the dildo section. I scurry behind her. “So…sort of. Sex is seen less as events in a sequence and more as an overall collection of activities. Like yeah, kissing and boob touching all come first, but beyond that, dry humping can be sex, fingering can be sex, oral can be sex. It’s just the pursuit of orgasms and connection.” Her gaze falls on a harness. “But there are also activities that mimic penetration, which isn’t, like, the top of the line or anything—some couples never pull on a strap—but if you want to be penetrated by a not–cis dude for your little ‘virginity’ quest…”
“But that wouldn’t be having sex with a guy.”
Romy shrugs. “You could say you’ve been penetrated, which appears to be your idea of sex.” She shakes her head. “I’m not giving you good advice. Seriously, if your partner gives you an orgasm, you’ve had sex in the sapphic world.”
I chew on my lip as Romy pulls a harness off the display. “But if that’s the definition of sex, then have I already lost my virginity to a guy?”
In my handful of dating experiences, I’ve been fingered, been eaten out, given one or two blow jobs. No one’s made me come, but that’s another story.
Romy feeds a rainbow dildo into the harness. “If you wanna follow queer-girl logic, then you haven’t, because you’ve never had an orgasm. Honestly, the emphasis on penetration is ridiculous, and why should one set of lovers have to do more or less to achieve the same idea of experience? Like I said, virginity is a ridiculous concept.”
Romy tosses me the strap-on.
“But penetration can be a part of sapphic sex,” I say.
“Yeah, but you’d never want to instill an idea that a penis-shaped thing has to enter a partner’s vagina for sex to have occurred. Like how straight men don’t lose some new virginity if they get pegged. Also, the pursuit of orgasm should be enough, so you know what? Yes, you’re not a virgin, even though you haven’t come. There are so many layers.”
Already I have no idea what Romy is talking about. Am I supposed to be thinking about philosophy when talking about sex?
I know I’m at square one with Valeria and that it’s not gonna happen, but I can’t help but hold this thing and wonder what I even want out of any potential encounter we have. Do I just want to kiss her? Touch her? Exchange orgasms? And then there’s this thing.
“Is there any advantage to a strap?”
“Don’t get me wrong, dude. I own one and love it, and a lot of my partners have loved it too.”
My stomach flips at her words. Guess I do know how Romy has sex after all.
“There’s also, uh, a lot of blatant power play that goes into it.” Romy eyes me, a smile forming on her face. “Which—not gonna psychoanalyze you—but I bet is a little of the appeal with Valeria.” She shrugs. “Like, I’d want to be topped like that by someone like her.”
I frown. “Not that that’s even a remote possibility.”
Now or ever. Although I do like the idea of a strap; it kind of combines the experience of a home run with queerness. It feels tangible, comforting to think about doing one day. Like if I had that experience under my belt, I’d know what Rain and Jared and even Romy and Wyatt are talking about when they talk sex, no follow-up questions needed.
Romy’s off the subject, though.
“I don’t think you would’ve liked being a personal assistant,” she says. “The dynamic would’ve been way off anyway.”