Losing My Religion

Confusion rolled through my gut. I stared at the paper, a chemistry assignment due tomorrow, while my girlfriend, Amber, hovered over my shoulder trying to help.

Her voice was gentle and patient, but her twitching finger and contorted posture betrayed her impatience. “Adam, all you have to do is add more of each compound until both sides of the equation have the same amounts of each element.” 

That was the fourth time she’d said the same thing – or was it the fifth? – and this time, just like all of the others – I did not understand.

“But doesn’t this,” I pointed to one side of the paper, “just turn into that?” I pointed to the other side.

“Oh my god, no babe, some of them need to react in pairs or triplets or whatever so there’s the right amount of stuff.” She ran a hand through my short ginger hair affectionately. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go to a tutor or the professor’s office hours? I feel like I’m not helping at all.”

I sighed, ignoring her taking the Lord’s name in vain – something we’d argued about before – and leaned into her touch. “Maybe it would be better to get a tutor, but I wanted to spend more time with you.”

She giggled and stepped away from where I sat at the desk in her solo dorm, moving over to sit on the bed and stare at me slyly. “There are plenty of other things we could be spending time together for…”

My mouth twisted into a grimace, but I quickly covered it up by wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and schooling my expression. That was another thing that we’d argued about before – or rather, that we’d disagreed about: when it was okay to have sex. 

I was waiting until marriage, both as a religious commitment, because I thought it was the right thing to do according to God, and because I thought it was better for our relationship – that if Amber and I got along romantically without sex, we would be even better off once we were married. She disagreed.

Now, I wasn’t some kind of chauvinist that would only marry a virgin – and in fact, Amber was not a virgin, she’d had sex before we started dating – but I wouldn’t have sex until I was married, and that sometimes frustrated her.

Despite my attempts to hide my reaction she saw through me. “Adam, I’m not even talking about sex, there are a million things we can do other than sex.” She sighed and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, “I just want something more than a chaste kiss – just making out with me would be enough.”

It was true that it had taken all three months of our relationship so far for me to kiss her, both out of my reluctance to do sexual things, and out of a shyness to be the one to initiate. I glanced back at my homework, feeling like I should complete it before doing anything else.

She groaned in frustration when I didn’t respond. “Adam, if you don’t want to do anything with me, that’s fine, but I need you to be honest with me about it. I can’t keep getting strung along like this.” The sheets rustled and the bed squeaked as she sat up. “Do you even find me attractive?”

I looked at her, examined her in a way that I usually didn’t let myself. Amber was a sporty, medium height twenty-one-year-old with straight black hair that came down to the tops of her shoulders. She wore a white tank top that revealed her black sports bra, loose black joggers below, and no makeup.

Despite her casual state of dress – or perhaps because of it – she was extremely beautiful. Hazel eyes adorned a sharp face full of confidence, energy and sass. Even in a vulnerable moment, questioning if her boyfriend found her attractive, she still gave off the impression of being in control, of being the instigator. 

Of course I found her attractive, anyone attracted to women would.

Then why don’t you want to touch her?

I shook the intrusive thought from my head. I was obviously just nervous and inexperienced, worried I wouldn’t live up to her expectations. The best thing to do would be to push through my discomfort and give her what she wanted to the best of my ability. As my dad always said, ‘it’s a man’s job to give his woman whatever she wants’. 

I reluctantly stood without a word and strode over to the bed, climbing over Amber as her expression grew more and more excited.

There were a lot of feelings I would’ve had to sort through in order to find my own anticipation – the nervousness that came with doing something unfamiliar, the dread that I might be doing something sinful, the inexplicable tension swirling in my stomach, and the even stranger burning heat radiating between my legs – but I ignored them all, shoving them away in order to be as proficient as I could with my limited experience. I needed to be skilled, to satisfy her and complete my job, then everything would be okay and we could go back to normal.

The kiss I gave her was fumbling and toothy – not that I understood that at the time – and my hands fell limply by my side without any guidance, completely aimless. 

She worked into me, running one hand smoothly across my face to the back of my neck, and running the other down my hard, flat chest. Her kisses were confident, with seamless transitions from pressing our lips together to her sucking one of mine to her biting me. 

A satisfied sigh escaped her, while I, on the other hand, only grew more and more distressed.

I may not have had the knowledge to understand the particular ways I was fucking up, but it was completely transparent that Amber was incomparably more skilled than I was. My anxiety heightened, the tension in my gut coiled tighter, and the strange burning in my underwear only got worse – and no, it wasn’t just an erection; I at least knew what that felt like, much to my shame.

We broke apart, with Amber grinning, and stared into each other’s eyes.

“This is so nice,” She said, “We should do this all the time…”

I really have to do this more often? “Oh. Sure,” I responded.

Her grin dropped and her eyes narrowed, “You don’t like this.”

“What? No, of course I want to make you happy,” I pleaded.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I’m talking about you enjoying yourself for your own sake. Why isn’t this enjoyable for you?” Her eyes examined me, digging deeper into my face than I was comfortable with.

I picked the only feeling of mine that I could actually identify. “I’m just anxious…”

Amber’s hand came up to caress my cheek. “You should let go of yourself for a moment, just do what you want.” 

Her eyes stared into mine, completely sincere, “I promise no matter what we won’t have sex right now; I know how much that means to you. Other than that, I want you to just let go of yourself for a minute and actually enjoy the moment.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I can do this, I can be good enough for her. I nodded and focused on isolating the desire I felt – the burning, all consuming passion. It flared up inside me, instantly responding when I loosened the hold I’d kept on it since hitting puberty. 

One of my hands reached up to grope her chest and the other dug under her to grab her toned ass. The heat in me built.

She moaned and leaned into my touch, utterly ecstatic that I’d listened to her.

My mouth came to her neck and I licked a spot before taking it into my mouth, sucking hard. The heat spread, radiating out from my hips to cover my whole body, burning like a fever.

Her hips bucked when my hand slipped under her bra to pinch her hard nipple between my fingers, and she let out another moan.

“Fuck, Adam, where’s this been?”

I released her neck and panted, feeling sluggish from the overwhelming heat. “I…” My thoughts burned up, leaving me absentmindedly touching my girlfriend, slowly slumping over onto the bed.

At my response, Amber’s voice grew concerned. “Adam?” She pushed me off her and peered into my drooping eyelids. “Fuck, you’re burning up,” She said to herself, already aware that my mind was elsewhere.

My thoughts swam, floating through each other and mingling into a complex idea soup. I let go, and everything vanished.

—

Feelings are weird. 

There are a hundred different things that I could mean when saying that I was ‘feeling’ something, from a physical sensation, to an emotion, to any combination of the two. I could be referring to an intuition, something I didn’t know where it came from, or a bias that’s built up from two decades of experiences. 

It was no wonder I couldn’t sort my feelings out at the best of times, let alone at that moment, waking up in Amber’s bed.

I groaned, at least identifying a dry throat and a headache. Everything else was inscrutable.

There was a dread forming, a tightness in my chest that said I didn’t want to understand what was going on, that I wasn’t ready. I didn’t listen.

My eyes opened, and anticlimactically there was only the white ceiling, nothing out of place. Based on the light streaking across the surface, casting long shadows behind the small bumps, it was sunset, meaning a few hours had passed, but the passage of time was not as incredible of a revelation as I’d expected.

There was something wrong with the sight before me, however, even if I hadn’t put my finger on it yet. Instead of searching for the source of the subtle wrongness that plagued me, I instead sat up and looked around for Amber. She wasn’t there.

The eeriness increased. Why wouldn’t she be here? If she went to get medical help she should be back by now…

I stood and pointedly ignored the way my body bounced and jiggled as I moved. My tail swayed behind me, expressing my irritation at the weirdness going on. Why couldn’t we just have a nice study session? Instead, I gave into temptation and…

Amber’s return cut off my train of thought and instead my mind jumped to focus on the way she looked at me when she saw that I was awake. Even standing across the room from me, her body hunched protectively over itself and one of her hands slid into the pocket of her joggers. Her eyes regarded me with suspicion, “What the hell did you do with my boyfriend?” 

I stared blankly at her. “I’m right here…?” My voice was just another in the long list of inexplicable oddities. It was velvety, decadent, seductive, and undeniably feminine, despite its low pitch. I ignored it.

Amber, on the other hand, reacted with a red face and wide eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed for me, for herself, or if she was angry. “Is that really you, Adam?” 

My tail coiled around my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly, “Yea, I don’t understand why that’s so hard to believe, I’ve been here the whole time…?” 

Her face grew somehow more incredulous, “You don’t unders–” She shook her head and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards her bathroom.

I followed and my tail released its grip on my leg to sway in time with my hips as I walked.

‘Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it…’

I chanted in my head.

My obstinance was inevitably broken when we arrived in front of her mirror. 

A cute red-skinned woman stood next to my girlfriend, stubby little horns growing out of the top of her head. A thin black tail with a spade tip swayed anxiously behind her.

Then there were the more… human… aspects of her body. She was shorter than Amber, had smooth, hairless skin, long, crimson hair cascading down her shoulders, and was… physically remarkable.

Remarking as politely as I could, given the subject, she had feminine genitals and rather prominent secondary sexual features, all in the same red tone. 

What the…

I took a break from staring at the body to glance at Amber and saw that she was staring just as intensely as I’d been, although her expression was unreadable.

“You’re a demon,” She finally said.

I turned away from the mirror, unable to have this conversation while staring into my own glowing orange irises. “You’re right,” I told her, feeling anger and shame growing in my chest, “This is what I get for falling to temptation…” 

“You fucking moron–”

I cut her off with a glare and a pointed finger, “No, this is your fault; if you never tried to seduce me this would’ve never happened!”

“How is this my fault?! Your dad was the one that must’ve–”

“You did this to me!” I screamed, “I should’ve known better than to listen to a Godless heathen!”

Amber’s palm came up to slap her forehead and she shook her head. “You know what? I’m done.”

She stared into me, her features tense but controlled. “I’m going to go spend the night with a friend, and you have until tomorrow morning to figure your shit out and leave my room.” 

She towered over me with her newfound height advantage and shot me a warning glare, “You and me are done now, and if you mess with my shit tonight I’m telling your dad about this,” she said, gesturing at my body.

Panic shot through my heart. If my dad found out… “Fine,” I hissed, “Abandon me to deal with the consequences of your actions!”

She sighed and left the room, grabbing a bag and throwing a set of clothes and toiletries into it. 

I followed behind her and waited, wanting to hear her retort, wanting her to fight with me more than I wanted to ‘win’ the argument. 

She finally responded when her bag was packed and she was standing with one hand on the doorknob, looking over her shoulder. “Our relationship has issues – it had issues. And whatever this is?” She waved at my body, “You don’t have the self-awareness to handle it, let alone while stubbornly blaming me for it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, to yell at her, but the door was open before I knew what to say. I jumped away, not wanting anyone to see me at all, let alone naked, and lost my opportunity to respond.

Left alone in my ex-girlfriend’s room, I huffed and laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling once more.  

I curled in on myself, hugging my knees to my chest, and trying not to think about how I’d just been broken up with, how I would be dead if anyone found out what happened to me, how I felt about what happened to me. 

You already know what they say about trying not to think about something.