have exactly as much sex as you’d like. Maybe that’s no sex. Maybe it’s tons. Probably it’s somewhere in the middle.”
“I’d prefer tons,” Craig shouted out, cupping his hands around his mouth so it carried.
“I know you would, bud. Hang in there.” She gave him a conciliatory nod before continuing. “I can’t tell you the right way to have sex. I’m pretty sure there is no right way. I’m also definitely not going to tell you what not to do. Own your own boundaries.”
Someone snapped a photo with a flash. Naomi blinked. It’s okay. You’re okay.
“All I can tell you is that for the last decade of my life, I’ve mostly treated sex as a litmus test. My partners passing and failing to varying degrees.” She paused to tuck her hair behind her ear, staring out at a guy clearly filming on his cell. “I wanna be clear that performing in adult films didn’t make me like that.”
Naomi would throw herself down a flight of stairs before she’d let another journalist write a think piece about how sex workers couldn’t emotionally connect.
“I considered myself discerning. But really, I was just young and arrogant. I thought I knew where sex maxed out. Where it peaked, no pun intended. I used to think—and to be fair, I thought this was extremely profound at the time—that if you made someone come in the right way, you could get them to reveal things to you that they kept hidden from the rest of the world. Sounds powerful, right?”
“Sounds like some potent pussy, Ms. G.”
Naomi shook her head, recognizing another familiar voice. “Thanks, Dan. I try.”
Ethan shot him an intense Watch it look that made her laugh.
“Potency aside, I recently realized that sometimes it’s better to ask yourself not just what do you want, but what are you willing to give?”
Tender like a fading bruise. Tender like a slow dance. Tender like a beating heart.
“After all, a trade that only goes one way is actually called stealing, and after a while, even the most callous hearts grow guilty.”
When Naomi was young, she’d thought hardening herself to vulnerability was radical. Now, she knew it was both foolish and impossible.
“Access to your body is one thing. To let someone see your feverish wants. To let them hear the noises you make as you surrender. When you think about it a lot, having sex is kind of . . . insane.”
More laughs. Naomi took them in, let them keep her warm.
She found Ethan again. He wasn’t taking notes like usual. His eyes held hers. Hey, he mouthed.
Hi.
Naomi walked away from the mic; she was loud enough on her own.
“Sometimes sex can mean giving someone access to the parts of yourself that you spend a lot of time and energy covering up. And I know what you’re all thinking. Isn’t that hard enough?”
Tender like a promise. Tender like a sunrise. Tender like your key in the front door at midnight, letting you in, welcoming you home.
“And here I am, asking you to give away more.”
Naomi let her hands fall open at her sides.
“I guess what I’m saying is, try to figure out, ideally before you get naked, if the person you’re with wants you. Not anyone. Not a fantasy. Or a pedestal-poised ideal. Not the you they wish you were. You as you are. Full stop. No modifier.”
This time when she looked for him, Ethan wasn’t in his seat. But that was okay.
“I’m talking about the type of intimacy that happens when someone’s looking right at you, and most of all—this is the important part—when you let them.”
A commotion in the hallway caught her attention. Raised voices. She shook her head to refocus.
“Listen, for all my experience, I’m not an expert. What I’m telling you isn’t a rule or a secret ingredient. It’s a theory, like anything else you’ve heard in this class. You can have great sex with someone you just met. You can have terrible sex with someone you love. It’s all okay. I can’t stress enough that there’s no shame in fucking without feelings.”
Someone to her left clapped.
“You decide what makes sex exciting. What makes it special for you. When you’re ready.”
A sea of faces stared back at her. Some nervous. Some mildly scandalized. A few thoughtful.
The hallway altercation grew louder. Footsteps over shouting. Naomi fought to hold the audience’s attention, to keep them focused through her gaze and the volume of her voice.
“Sex doesn’t have to be a big deal to be worthwhile. But sometimes