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“I’ll be as open as I possibly can be.”
I start to shuffle through the dozens and dozens of questions I have, wondering which are most important, which might be dumb, and which might cross a line. He’s clearly experienced, and I am not. It’s beyond intimidating and likely would be even if I were comfortable talking about sex in the first place.
I’m not.
“Kas? Do you have a question for me?”
“Yes.”
“Out with it, then.”
He’s so open about everything, I really should be able to just ask without feeling like I’m having some horribly taboo discussion with my grandmother.
“I was just wondering how many people you’ve tied up and had sex with.”
“Tied up or sex?” he asks. “Those aren’t the same thing.”
“I guess both.”
“I couldn’t really tell you how many people I’ve tied up. Probably a hundred or more. Of those, I’ve had sex with seven of them, two of which were relationships, not just the sex. I’ve also had one vanilla relationship, but that didn’t last long.”
“Vanilla?”
“Yeah, vanilla.” Cree grins. “I suppose it could be considered a little bit derogatory, but I don’t mean it that way. It’s a term used to describe basic, kink-free sex. Not that there is anything wrong with the straightforward missionary position, but…well, I like sprinkles on my ice cream. She didn’t.”
“So, it didn’t work out.”
“It did not. It’s not anyone’s fault. We just weren’t compatible. When I got more into rope, she didn’t like it even though I wasn’t sexually involved with the people I tied then. She gave me an ultimatum, and I picked rope over her. It didn’t end well.”
“I guess it wouldn’t.” I scowl at him. “No one would want a piece of rope to be more important than they are.”
“If I had been in love with her, maybe it would have been different,” he says, “but I wasn’t. Rope is a huge part of my life, and I can’t see myself giving that up for anyone. It wasn’t so much the rope itself but the idea that someone who supposedly cared about me would demand that I give up something I love. It didn’t sit well with me.”
I think for a minute about what he’s said.
“That does make sense,” I say. “It would be like someone telling me I had to give up going to med school to be with him.”
“Exactly. I don’t think anyone likes an ultimatum. It’s not like we’re talking about drugs here. What I do isn’t damaging to myself or others.”
“I think it really did help me. It was a pretty good distraction from other things.”
I glance over at the railing. It’s fairly dark, even with the emergency lights glowing from various corners, and I can’t see the water down below, but I can hear it.
“That was my goal.” Cree grins at me, grabs my hand with his, and strokes my wrist with his thumb. “More questions?”
I pause for a moment, eventually deciding to start with the basics.
“Do you use condoms?”
“Yes.”
“All the time?”
“Except for when I was in monogamous relationships, yes. I also get tested every year, just to be safe. I had my last test about three months ago, which I can get for you sometime, if you like. All clean. Even so, we would still be using condoms.”
“Okay.” I let out a quick sigh of relief. “Me too, but the one guy was really shitty about wearing one.”
“Then he’s an asshole.”
