Page 28 of The Future Play

He snorts at that. “I don’t think there’s a particular age for that, but some ways are probably better than others.”

Something about the way he says that makes it sound like he knows from experience.

“How did you learn about S-E-X?”

He laughs. “Did my mom ever mention what she does for a living?”

I think back, then realize she never did. “I assumed she worked with your dad. Or stayed home with your siblings.”

“Nope. She’s a sex therapist.”

My eyes fly wide.

“Yep. Which isn’t a bad thing. I grew up in a very sex positive household, but I also learned a lot about sex at a pretty young age. Partially because I”—he makes a face—“accidentally walked in on my parents when I was eight or nine. My mom calmly asked if I needed anything and when I said I didn’t, she asked me to go wait in my room until she came to talk to me. When she did, she sat me down and told me that sex is a natural part of life, that it’s something private between two grown-ups who both agree that’s what they want. Obviously, that was expanded on as I got older. There was never any shame placed on sex. My mom always talked about it in a positive way, though she encouraged me to wait until I could comfortably answer the questions ‘what if the person you were with gave you an STI’ and ‘what if the person you were with ended up pregnant.’ Then she focused on CHIP.”

“California Highway Patrol?”

He shakes his head at my silly joke. “Consent. Honesty. Integrity. Protection.”

“That’s a good acronym.”

“It is. Especially with consent coming first. My mom knows what men’s sports can be like—the kinds of things it can breed and cover up. She wanted to make sure I knew the only thing I’m entitled to use to get off is my own hand.”

A laugh erupts out of me, shaking my whole body. “Please tell me she used those words.”

“Oh, she definitely did. But she’s right. I mean, theoretically, sex toys could be involved too, but you know…”

“Wow. Well that’s about a thousand times more than anything I ever got. My mom told me to always use a condom and to make sure I see it go on. Never trust a man to handle protection.Oh, and if anythingbadever happened to me, to tell her. I think that was when I was eleven. Maybe twelve. Not much to go on. Especially since I knew I was bi in middle school and no one ever gives any education about non-hetero sex or protection.”

His brows lift a little and a soft smile appears on his face. “You’re bi?”

“Yep,” I say confidently. “My first and only relationship—if you could call it that—was with a girl. And I hooked up with both guys and girls in high school and college.”

“Do you lean one way more than the other?”

“Nope. I’m right smack in the middle. Which is really fun actually.” I give him a sly grin. “So many possibilities. Though I will say, so far, my sexual experiences have been better with women. I learned a hell of a lot more from a lesbian with a strap-on than I ever did from any of the guys I hooked up with.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t laugh or scowl at that. He nods in understanding.

“That makes sense. Women know where all the essential parts are and what feels good. Add the strap-on, and all they really have to do is master thrusting to have one up on pretty much any guy. That said, a lot of guys aren’t interested in exploring. That was something else I was encouraged to do. Go slow. Explore. Learn. Don’t jump into fucking just to have an orgasm—that one I’m paraphrasing.”

“That’s a good lesson.” A gust of cold wind hits, making us both shiver. He pulls the blanket up farther and moves a little closer to me, his hand brushing my thigh as he does. For a moment, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. It’s been a long time since I’ve been crushed out like this, and it’s annoyingly inconvenient. I take a deep breath to clear my head, then try to continue the conversation. “How old were you when you first started exploring?”

What a great question to ask the guy I’m crushing on.

“Fifteen. But I was kinda hooked once I did. I didn’t have”—he sighs heavily—“vaginal intercourseuntil like a year and a halfafter that. But once again, it became a preferred activity.” His cheeks turn bright red.

Damn my stupid crush because he is seriously cute when he blushes and looks all earnest. I can’t help but poke his cheek. “It’s kind of adorable when you blush like that.”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I hear that way too often. I hate that I blush. I’m not uncomfortable with the topic or inexperienced, I just hate having any kind of intense attention on me. And if I do, I go from white as a sheet to as red as Clifford in under two seconds.”

My brows dip in. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with Clifford the Big Red Dog being a part of our sex conversation.”

“Animated characters don’t do it for you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve watched some insanely hot anime porn.”

His eyes widen a little and he shakes his head. “I swear, sometimes I truly don’t expect the things that come out of your mouth.”

---