Page 82 of Berries and Greed

Well, damn. This had been enlightening. And now I understood why Greid had grown so flustered when I told him I wanted to touch his dick. All the demiurgus I’d watched had seemed to like the feel of the spikes, or at least tolerate it, but… I wasn’t so sure I wanted to tear my palm to shreds stroking him off.

When I heard the creak of the stairs on a floor above, I hurriedly closed down all the tabs and stuffed my phone into my onesie pocket, feeling a little guilty. I’d only watched to understand better, to see what I could learn, but… hiding it from Greid felt kind of wrong.

“I watched demiurgus porn,” I blurted the moment he stepped into the living room.

He froze, blinking once as he processed that. “I—Oh. Um… ’kay.”

“For a reason,” I said hurriedly, then licked my lips as a hint of nerves made my pulse flutter. “I think… Do you want to talk about some stuff?”

“What, porn stuff?” he asked uncertainly as he made his way over to the couch, then perched on the edge and wiped his palms down his thighs. His eyes darted over to the smoking tin resting on the coffee table.

I laughed, some of the tension melting away. “No, not necessarily porn stuff.” Although now I was wondering what kind of porn Greid watched. “But I watched it because… I remembered what you said back at the compound about, uh, demiurgus dicks.”

Greid’s spine snapped straight. His eyes darted longingly to the smoking tin again, before he croaked, “Oh. Okay.”

Suddenly I wondered if it had been a terrible idea. Did he find it invasive? I hadn’t watched it to drool over demiurgus dick. I’d watched it so that if and when Greid ever got naked in front of me, I wouldn’t make him feel awful by gawping in shock or recoiling.

Not that I would have, now that I had an idea of what he had going on, but I hadn’t known that at the time. I just liked being prepared. Feeling in control of a situation.

“I wasn’t trying to be a creep,” I told him anxiously, wanting to touch him but refraining for the time being. Clearing my throat, I nodded at the tin. “If you want to smoke while we talk about this, you can.”

He immediately lunged for the tin with a squawk of nervous laughter. “Cool. Thanks. I, um… This is weird.”

“It’s not weird, Greid. We’re different species. There’ll be things we need to discover about each other. And…” I paused, waiting for him to strike a match and light his joint. “I could sense you were maybe a little nervous when I said I wanted to touch you this morning, and I was wondering if it was because you were worried.”

“I mean, yeah.” His knee bounced as he rolled the joint between two long fingers, watching its smoking tip. “It would’ve, um, hurt you.”

I watched him. “So the spikes are sharp, then?”

His ears fluttered wildly, but he took another deep drag and said, “Not sharp enough to pierce skin, unless you were… you know. Human. And rubbing your hand over them repeatedly.”

“So how do you jerk off?” I asked without thinking. “Or have any kind of sex that involves penetration?”

“Christ, I should’ve stayed upstairs,” he mumbled, rubbing his face. A tiny hint of hurt tightened my chest.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” I said quietly. “I just thought—”

“No.” He exhaled, then finally turned to face me. “I’m sorry, I’m just… really fucking nervous. We should probably, um, talk about it. If we’re… If this…”

“Look, why don’t I tell you something first?” I shifted onto my knees and sat back on my heels. “And it might… put you at ease a bit.”

“Okay.” Greid eyed me nervously, sucking on his joint.

“So I don’t…” I picked at the blanket beside me. I wasn’t overly worried about Greid’s reaction, but it was still nerve-wracking, and an intimate thing to share. “I have vaginismus, so whenever I’ve attempted penetrative sex in the past, it hurt. A lot. But I… I don’t actually like being penetrated anyway.” I shrugged. “I have no idea if it’s a coincidence or if they’re linked. Probably the latter though, seeing as vaginismus is usually a psychological thing.”

Taking a breath, I forced myself to look at Greid. He gave me a tiny smile but stayed quiet, waiting for me to finish.

“So, yeah. If you were worried about anything…” I hesitated, then reached out and curled my fingers over his free hand. He immediately flipped it to thread his fingers through mine and squeezed. “And if you did still want… something with me, then… the spikes wouldn’t be a problem.”

I managed to give him a wry smile, but it dropped as I chewed my lip and added, “But obviously it would mean… you know, some kinds of sex aren’t possible for us.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, they wouldn’t be anyway. Because of, um, my spiky dick and all.”

I snorted, then clutched his hand tighter as I asked, “Does that bother you?”

“What?” He shook his head with an incredulous laugh. “What kind of asshole would I be if it did?”

“I don’t know.” A smile was twisting my mouth. “Some people have been assholes about it.”

---