Chapter 5 Elanie #2
“It felt warm,” I replied, staring into his eyes, mesmerized by the little strands of silver fanning out from his pupils. “It felt slippery.”
His breath caught. “That slipperiness was your body getting ready for sexual intercourse.”
“It was?”
“Yes,” he said. Then he swallowed, and my gaze followed the rippling movement along the long, blue column of his throat. I was certain that Blake also swallowed. But I’d never noticed it. Not like this. Like I wanted to trace the motion with my fingertips all the way down—
“Before you and Blake tried to have sex, before he tried to…enter you,” he said softly, “did he do anything to help you get ready? Did he help you feel any of that wetness between your legs?”
Tearing my gaze from his throat to look down at my hands clasped in my lap, I said, “I think he tried, but nothing he did…you know.”
“Got you wet?” Dr. Semson suggested with a shaky exhale.
The air conditioning must have clicked on, because a shiver tickled my neck.
“He kissed me a little,” I said. “And that was nice. But after touching my breasts got us nowhere, we were both feeling frustrated. Eventually, he said, ‘let’s do it’ and I said, ‘whatever,’ and he just climbed on top of me and…” I shrugged, trailing off.
When I looked up again, Dr. Semson’s eyes were unblinking. “He suggested sex, and you said ‘whatever’?”
“Yes. I just wanted to get it over with.” I squinted at him, analyzing his response. “You’re judging me. I can feel it.”
Grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes, he said, “I’m not.
I mean, I didn’t mean to, if it seemed like I was.
There can be so much pressure surrounding a being’s first sexual experience.
There is nothing wrong with wanting to relieve that pressure and just get it over with.
Unfortunately, though, that kind of approach to sex is rarely enjoyable. ”
“Well, I didn’t even get the chance to decide whether it was enjoyable. Because I’m dysfunctional.”
“No, Elanie. You just weren’t ready.”
“But why?” I asked, desperate to know. “Why wasn’t I ready? Blake was ready.”
When Dr. Semson muttered, “Blake is probably always ready,” I threw my hands into the air and said, “Exactly! It’s not fair.”
“It’s not,” he agreed. “It’s often much easier for a male of a species to get into the right physiological state for intercourse.
It can be harder for a female. Or, no, not harder.
I mean”—he scratched his head—“for a male, it’s not typically hard—or it is hard, but it’s not, like, hard.
It’s difficult. That’s all I’m trying to say. It’s more difficult. For females. For—”
“You’re stammering again,” I pointed out, almost amused by his tousled hair and wildly gesticulating hands.
“You’re… I’m… Saints, I am,” he confessed, laughing a little at himself. I wasn’t sure why, but I liked that, that he could laugh at himself. “Why don’t we try something else?” he suggested. “Maybe we need to dive a bit deeper. Maybe we should start with your motivation.”
My head tilted. “My motivation for what?”
“For installing the hormone upgrade. I’ve been thinking about it since our visit yesterday. You waited longer than most bionics. What made you finally decide to upgrade? What were you looking for? Hoping for? What was your reason?”
This, I thought, was a ridiculous question.
Partly because I failed to see how my motivation to upgrade related in any way to my sexual dysfunction.
But mainly because even after spending several nanoseconds searching my CPU, I couldn’t come up with a single answer.
“I wasn’t looking for anything. It was just… time.”
“It was just time,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” The way he drew the word out gave it a third syllable.
I frowned at him. “You’re judging me again.”
Squeezing the back of his neck, wincing so deeply that the dark-blue freckle under his eye got lost in a wrinkle, he said, “Sorry. I understand. Sometimes it’s just time for something new.
We don’t always have to have a reason for our actions.
” He pushed himself up from the counter, and when he ran a hand through his hair again, his bangs swooped back down, settling like a soft, silver curtain over his forehead.
“Here is my advice, as your physician. If you and Blake decide you want to try having sex again, I recommend that you purchase some artificial lubrication. This will make sex much more comfortable.” His lips pressed together, then tilted.
“And, hopefully, more successful. They sell multiple varieties of lube at the adult store on deck thirty-six. Or, if you’re interested in a more natural approach”—hooking a finger into his shirt collar, he pulled it away from his throat—“there are ways. Techniques, I mean—”
“Stammering.”
He blew out a breath. “There are specific ways Blake can help you get ready for sex. There are also ways you can get yourself ready.”
My eyes popped wide. “There are?”
Staring doggedly at the floor, he inhaled sharply through his nose, blew it out, then asked, “Have you ever touched yourself between your legs?”