“Contrary to what you might be thinking, I had assumed you may not be comfy enough to try that right out of the gate, which is why I wasn’t going to suggest it.” Luke chuckles.
“Oh.” I relax slightly, but my face still feels warm.
Luke bites his lower lip and squeezes my hand. “I was thinking the opposite, actually,” he says, like he can tell I wasn’t quite getting to the point on my own.
My eyes widen, my breath hitching. “Oh.”
“Does that freak you out?” Luke searches my face carefully, trying to gauge my reaction.
“No,” I answer instinctively, but I don’t think the expression on my face agrees.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Luke chuckles, poking my chest with his index finger for emphasis. Then he sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Maybe tonight isn’t the right night for it. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you so suddenly. I’m sorry.”
“No, I want to,” I say quickly, surprised by the eagerness behind the words. “I really do.”
“You don’t need to feel pressured to say yes. It’s okay if you’re not ready, Ethan.”
“It’s not that. I just…don’t know what I’m doing.” I wince at the admission, feeling my face flush. Luke cocks his head to the side, and his lips quirk up into that devilish little smile, which does the exact opposite of calming my racing mind.
“Is that all that’s worrying you?” he asks, his electric blue eyes assessing. I nod sheepishly, and he smirks. “Well, lucky for you,Iknow whatI’mdoing. And I’d be with you the entire time to walk you through it. We’ll take it slow. You can set the pace, and we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable. You just need to talk to me, okay? I can’t know what you’re thinking or feeling unless you communicate it to me.”
I frown. “What if I fuck it up?”
“You might.” Luke laughs, though it’s not cruel. “I won’t lie. It might not be perfect the first time. It might be awkward and messy, but you’ve got to start somewhere. And I’d really like to be the one to go there with you.”
I search Luke’s face quietly for a moment, feeling my anxiety pulsing in my chest with every beat of my heart. It’s almost unfair how perfectly at ease he is sitting there baring his soul to me, but at the same time, I’m grateful at least one of us iscalm about this. It’s an anchor point for me, something to keep me steady as my anxiety threatens to take over. I simply have to remind myself that Luke is experienced, and he won’t lead me astray. He’s already been nothing if not gracious with me the entire time we’ve been together, and I should know by now that I don’t need to be afraid of him judging me for what I don’t know.
“Okay,” I agree. “But can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Assume I know literally nothing. Walk me through anything you think is important.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know what I want to know, and if you want to wait until I can think of a good question, we’ll be waiting here all night. So…tell me everything.”
Luke laughs, shaking his head, but he doesn’t belittle the request. Rearranging himself on the couch to sit cross-legged, he takes a deep breath and begins talking.
For the next half hour or so, he gives me information that goes beyond any sex education class I’ve encountered in my entire life. I’m shocked to learn how much more of an idiot I am than I initially thought. At first, I can’t help but feel awkward and antsy as he very casually explains the prep work involved with getting ready to have anal sex, as if he’s discussing the mechanics of fishing with a man who’s never seen the ocean. But after a while, I’m too stunned by how much I didn’t know to be anxious about it.
The first major takeaway is the need for lube,alwayslube. Since there is no self-lubrication mechanism for that part of the body, using it with any form of penetration is a requirement. The alternative leads to potential tearing, infection, and an overall painful experience, and anyone who tells me otherwise is a masochistic son of a bitch with a pain kink who likes to flirt with disaster.
“Which, I suppose, that’s fine, if you’re into that sort of thing,” he says as an afterthought, “but that comes with alotof communication and consent. It shouldn’t be painful if done properly.”
Next, he goes into the various types of anal play that people may enjoy, how stimulation is not only fun but helpful for the receiving partner, and I try very hard not to die thinking about some of the things he describes. He explains that some of the best orgasms can come for anyone with a prostate when it’s hit just right, and there’s a whole slew of sex toys on the market that are both fun and effective at getting those results, but to always remember the cardinal rule: “If it goes up there, make sure it’s flared.”
He spares me the gory details, but hints that having to look the poor ER nurses in the face and explainwhythere’s a wine bottle stuck in your ass isn’t worth the risk of trying to get off. He must have realized my first thought was, “How would you know something so weirdly specific?” because he shoots me a horrified look and swears on his life that he wasnotreferring to himself in this scenario.
Even though I already had a vague inclination about the different terminology used in the gay—and sometimes straight—community that determines anything from preference to position, Luke gives me a refresher. He says some people are strictly tops, while others are solely bottoms, and more are vers—or versatile—like he is. Plenty of others absolutely hate those labels, which again comes down to personal preference. He tells me how he usually assumes the role of a top because of how tall he is, and people tend to get intimidated by his height, but he enjoys receiving just as much, if not more.
Then, the conversation shifts to safe sex practices. He goes over the need for proper hygiene and the option of douching with warm water, which isn’t always strictly necessary, but somepeople really prefer it. He stresses the need for regular testing for STDs and HIV, especially as a gay or bisexual man. However, he carefully illuminates the stigma that generally surrounds the topic after the AIDS epidemic in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and how there are preventative medications now, called ‘PreP’ and ‘DoxyPEP,’ that people can take to help mitigate those fears and stay safe. He’s on them, apparently. I’d never even heard of them before.
Luke also tells me that he’d recently gotten tested before coming back to Michigan and hadn’t been with anyone until I showed up. I sheepishly say that I haven’t been in a few years, but then I hadn’t slept with anyone in a while, either. However, he still emphasizes that using condoms is the safest bet for prevention and is generally a requirement for his own comfort. I don’t see any reason to argue with that.
When he’s done going over everything he thinks I probably didn’t know until my head is spinning, he patiently answers every new question that pops into my head, no matter how stupid I feel asking them. It’s not the sexiest conversation I’ve ever had, but something about how at ease and unembarrassed Luke is discussing this stuff leaves me feeling more comfortable than I ever imagined I could be. If the roles had been reversed, I know I would have been a bright red puddle on the floor, my tongue so twisted that I fear I’d never speak again.
But there comes a point where the talking runs its course, and Luke says that the next step is hands-on practice. He gives me a bright smile and a quick kiss before standing up from the couch, a mischievous glint in his eye that has my heart leaping into my throat.
