Page 44 of Nothing To Lose
"I'm not saying you do, but also… you might. Your nightmares–"
"Are you a therapist now?"
He scoffs. "No, obviously not. But I do know you're going through something. And I know there's a lot you're not telling anyone."
"I wasn't sexually assaulted," I say, needing to remind him of that fact. "So I don't know whythat… threw me off."
"Even if you hadn't been through any sort of trauma, not everyone wants to have anal sex. It's not something you ever have to do."
"I know I don'thaveto do anything. I know, without a doubt in the world, that you'd never do something I didn’t want you to. I didn't even have to say no, and look how quickly you stopped," I point out. "And I don't think I'm afraid of anal. Or at least, I don't want to be."
"That's where talking it out comes in, right? We can talk about what you're comfortable with. Have you ever, you know, touched yourself there?"
My face flames, and I have to remind myself several times that I'm a mature adult who can handle talking about sex. About all the different aspects of sex. About my body. About my asshole.
"A little," I admit quietly. "But it didn't really do anything for me."
"What did you use? A toy, or just your fingers?"
If it wasn't for the fact that I can feel him growing hard asking me these questions, I'd be mortified. But his obvious arousal makes it different. All of a sudden, it's not a discussion about my trauma and fears. It's a lesson.
"My fingers. Er—one finger. I just felt pressure, nothing exciting."
"Hmm. You probably didn't have a good angle to stimulate your prostate."
"And, um…what angle is good for that?" I know what a prostate is, and roughly where it should be, but the search wasn't exciting enough to keep trying. I liked using my free hand to play with my balls instead. This is a lesson I could easily get on board with, though. "Can you show me?"
He thinks for a moment. "On you or on myself?"
Oh, damn. That's a hard one to answer. Because as much as I want to feel it, I think I want to watch him even more. Or… "Maybe both? Show me how to find it on you, and go from there?"
My eyes widen in surprise Isaac lets out a sound that's a cross between a choke and a breathy whimper, instead of responding with words like a normal person.
He clears his throat, "Yeah. We can do that. Where are you going?"
"Uh, to the bedroom. I feel like we should be naked for this, and I'm not really into exhibitionism. I don't think."
Glancing at the floor to ceiling windows, and the afternoon light filtering in, he chuckles. "So we're doing this now, then?"
"No time like the present!" I call, making a beeline for the bedroom.
"Eager, are we?"
"I don't really understand what the whole top/bottom dynamic is supposed to be or what the logistics are. I get that you're the big guy, and I'm the little guy, and you give off big top energy. It feels special that I might get the opportunity to put something inside you, even if it's just a finger."
"Well, first—you're bigger than me." His eyes land on the front of my underwear.
"I think that’s just a proportion thing," I say. "It looks bigger because I'm so scrawny."
"You're not scrawny, you're perfect. Everything about you is perfect. That cock is perfect. As for dynamics and logistics… there are no rules."
I stop stripping and lift an eyebrow, waiting for him to give me more explanation.
"I top most of the time, but that's usually because it's what people have wanted from me. In the right situation, I'm versatile."
"What does that mean, theright situation?"
"I probably wouldn't bottom for a stranger."
