“And as you’ve pointed out, I got my life back in New Haven, and it’s a near-certainty you’re never coming back there. So I don’t know where the hell that leaves us, because maybe you’re content fooling around, but I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed what we did more than I’ve ever enjoyed anything in my whole damn life, and I could die tomorrow a happy fuckin’ man, because I got to experience that with you. The problem, Torie, is that the next time I get my hands on you, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop at just eating your pussy, just getting a handjob or even a blowjob from you. I want more. Need more. And if I were to get a little of you, I’d take all of you.”
I swallowed hard. Looked away. Returned to the freeway, tires skidding on the rain-slicked pavement as I nailed the gas a little too hard.
“The problem, Torie, is that that ain’t mine to take.”
“It is if I give it to you.”
“Did you hear everything I said?” I asked. “What I said I want?”
She nodded. “Every single syllable. And yes, I’ve never experienced that so I can’t say I want those things specifically. Some of it sounds a little scary, honestly. But being with you at all is scary. You make me want things that scare me. You make me feel things that scare me. But part of all that, being scared of the things you make me feel and want is that I’ve never felt so alive as when I’m with you.” Naked, bold, eyes fiery and on mine. “So, yes, Rhys. I want those things. I want it all. I’m scared of it, yes. But I want it.” She swallowed, blinking. “What scares me the most is what you said—that you never want to stop. Because I never want to stop either. I didn’t want to stop the other morning, in that motel. I wanted to keep going. I didn’t want to tell you I’m a virgin because I knew it would scare you. Guys see virginity as this…this precious thing. They see taking it as a responsibility. As if my entire future of sexuality hinges on their performance during my first time. And I’m like, get over yourself! You’re giving yourself too much credit. Not you specifically, just men in general, guys who I’ve had experiences with that could have led to sex.”
“Other than Max?” I asked.
“Other than Max, yes. A few guys.” She looked away. “There was a cook at the restaurant. We flirted, went on a date. We kissed. That was it. Went on another date. I went home with him and we made out, and it was obvious he was assuming, naturally enough, it was leading towards sex. So I told him I’m a virgin, and he noped out of that, didn’t want any part of taking my V-card, as he called it. That’s happened two other times. No discussion, no option for me to decide what I wanted, if I was even offering, no respect for my autonomy, my will, my desires.”
“That ain’t what’s happening here, though,” I said.
“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “But you’re still scared of my virginity.”
“Yeah, I guess maybe I am, a little.”
She nodded. “I know. But I told you. I’ve given you plenty of time to think about it. And, you’ll notice, I’m still not exactly saying let’s do it right now. If I offer you my virginity, you’ll know. It won’t be in a car. It won’t be an accident. It’ll be me telling you what I want, that I want it, that I’m ready. If we get there—if, say, if—you’ll know because I’ll say it in so many words, that I want to have sex with you, that I want to go there. Your role, at that point, is to decide one thing—if you want that with me. Your responsibility, and your only responsibility, is to decide if you want to have sex with me. The consequences of it, how I feel about it, how it affects my future sexuality, that’s on me. Not you. You don’t decide that for me. If I were to offer it to you, it would be because I’ve decided you’re the man I want to experience the full totality of sex with. I’ll have chosen you.
“I trust you, because I know you’ll treat me right and make my experience a good one. And that’s all you have