The Objectively Most Rational Decision

-- Day 224 --

My arms were sore. My legs, too.

The former from carrying my bags, the latter from carrying me. I really needed to exercise more, because this was literally just a shopping trip.

"One more stop?" asked Quinn.

"Agh.. I don't know if I can last... another step..." I panted with exhaustion.

"Eris, we've been to two stores. You're not even carrying anything heavy."

I scoffed, "Yeah, well, I- uh..."

"Yeah?" she laughed. In my face. The absolute nerve. I thought we were supposed to be friends, now!

"Ugh. Fine. One more stop," I gracefully obliged. I could do this. All I had to do was just... power through. I couldn't help but notice, though, that my feet hurt with every step. This was a little bit pathetic. Seriously, Eris?

I still didn't understand the appeal of shopping. Sure, I liked trying on outfits and seeing how I looked, but it was a lot more enjoyable to do it that in the comfort of my bedroom than in a cramped, uncomfortable changing room.

Worse, before you could even wear anything, you had to endure the process of looking for clothes you'd like to try, forced to bear the brunt of everyone's imagined scrutiny. It was a panic attack ripe in the making.

Then you had to buy everything you wanted, and that sucked too, because it involved a one-two punch of potential social interaction and losing money. Why didn't any of these stores have a self-checkout, at least?!

We arrived at the store Quinn wanted to go to; it was the kind of place that sold trinkets and baubles, thingamajigs and doodads. That kind of stuff. I had no clue what she was here for, but I opted to wander off on my own.

Sean's birthday was coming up in a few weeks, wasn't it? I needed to get him something, to prove I was a good friend. I had no idea what to get, though.

After a while of lazily staring at things I didn't care enough to mentally process, I wound up in a section dedicated to stationery: pens and paper and assorted articles of their ilk. Normally, I wouldn't care about these things one iota. If anything, they reminded me of school - something I'd rather forget.

However: Sean had recently confided to me - because we hung out now, because we were friends and it was awesome and I was perfectly happy with just that - that he journaled. Like, every day he wrote with a special pen in this thick book. He said it was his third! I didn't think I would pick the hobby up myself, but it was cool knowing that he did cute stuff like that. I wondered what he wrote about me in there.

Anyway, my idea was simple. Sean had this fancy fountain pen that used actual, bottled ink. There was plenty of ink around here, in a variety of colours. I could buy him a bottle of ink, with a unique colour, and he'd think of me every time he wrote with it! It was really quite genius.

There was only one question: what colour to get?

I immediately discarded any horrible shade like chartreuse or hot magenta; it had to be something understated, yet eye-catching. Within another round of perusing, I found it. A deep reddish-purple - purplish-red? Darker than crimson and more purple than maroon: burgundy. Perfect.

I swiped the bottle from the shelf, and scurried back to Quinn.

***
-- Day 226 --

Have you ever stuck a cup to your face by sucking the air out of it? It was an interesting phenomenon, now that I thought about it. The vacuum caused by sucking the air out creates an area of negative pressure inside the cup, which leads to it trying to pull the outside in to fill the vacuum. Thus, it sticks to your face. If you were to breathe back into it, it would fall right off, but if you tried to manually pull it off, it would take much more force, and be accompanied with a popping sound as the air flows into it.

Mom walked in through the front door of the apartment; she was home from work.

The tall, plastic cup fell off of my mouth and landed in the sink, splashing and soaking the front of my shirt.

“Eris?” she asked, looking astonished by what she was seeing, “What are you doing?”

“Um…” I stared down at the sink, filled with dirty dishes i was slowly working away at, “You were, uh, complaining, yesterday, about how you always had to do the dishes. And I felt bad, so… um…”

Mom, suddenly breaking into a tearful smile, rushed over and wrapped me in a hug so tight that I couldn’t breathe.

“Oh, Eris… I’m so proud of you.”

I did my best attempt at hugging back, “It’s nothing. Really. Wasn’t I always supposed to be helping out with chores? It’s just… making up for lost time. I’m sorry.”

That was something I never liked about myself: my overwhelming laziness. If I had any opportunity to get out of something, I took it. Anything from chores to self-reflection. Well, I was done being like that. I wasn’t gonna just sit around doing nothing all the time. I’d help out with chores, and I’d learn to hate but tolerate them just like everybody else!

She sniffled, “Thank you, Eris. I really… I really needed a break.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got everything under control,” I smiled.

Mom vanished into the living room, and I felt - perhaps unduly - proud of myself. I did a mature thing, I gave my mom a break; I was really, actually doing better! I was going to tell Emily all about this, next session.

I should’ve worn an apron, though. I didn’t realize the water was going to splash so much!

Next, I was going to clean the litter box, and then…! Sleep, probably.

***
-- Day 237 --

I lightly knocked on the door to Sean’s apartment. I could hear sound coming from inside, but nobody came to answer the door. I must’ve been drowned out.

I knocked again, more loudly. Seconds later, the door opened, Sean standing on the other side. He looked... tall. Uh... nevermind, that wasn't out of the ordinary.

"Hey, Eris! Glad you could make it," he grinned.

I smiled, just a little bit. "Hi, Sean," I held up the present I got him, poorly wrapped in a small box, "I, uh, got you a gift?"

"Awesome, you can just, ah, come in and put it over there," he stepped aside and pointed at the coffee table. There was already a handful of other gifts there. And, looking around, a handful of other guests to go with them.

I knew there were going to be other people here, but I still wasn't sure I could handle it - I didn't have the best track record with this kind of stuff.

Deep breaths, Eris. You can do this.

I carefully made my way to the couch, and plopped myself on the unoccupied end. Hopefully, I would blend in well enough that nobody besides Sean would talk to me the entire-

"Oh, hey, Eris! Been a while, huh?"

Crap.

Painstakingly creaking my head in the voice's direction, I came face-to-face with one of Sean's friends - Julia. I was never great with Sean's friends the few times I'd met them, but I hadn't seen Julia since I was being kind of an argumentative jerk, and we had gotten into a fight. Double crap with a dookie on top.

"Um... hi..." I had no idea where to go, either physically or in terms of conversation. Was she still mad at me? I had to inform her that I was trying to be a better person, now.

"I'm sorry for-" I began, trying to talk quickly so I could get it all out, but she interrupted me.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I get it. Luna told me you probably haven't socialized very much. Autism can be, like, isolating."

Her too?! Surely if several people independently came to the conclusion I was autistic - hell, even I started suspecting it after reading up on how it presents - then it was statistically highly likely I was autistic, right? If that were the case... why did nobody ever think to tell me until the last few fucking months?! Did they not notice?!

"How do I know if I'm autistic?" I asked. I needed confirmation. I needed to know for sure.

"Huh?" She paused in - I supposed - confusion, "Wait, you're not diagnosed?"

"Uh... no."

"Well," she chuckled nervously, "this is... awkward... um... are you autistic, then?"

"I don't know!" I was a little exasperated at this point. Everyone had to suddenly be assuming this for a reason. "That's why I asked you."

"Um... maybe you could ask Luna about it? I guess she's the expert, and all."

"Okay?" I knew this was going to suck - I had only really interacted with Luna once and it was embarrassing to recall - but I desperately needed answers.

Julia dragged me over to her - she was standing in the corner and doing a very convincing impression of a floor lamp. I could certainly relate to that. Was that autism, though, or some other correlation? Perhaps it's a symptom of being trans? (I still wasn't quite sure if I was that, either, but I had been researching on that front as well. So far my mental fortifications were holding steady, and the Germans had yet to find their way around my Maginot Line of probable-denial.)

...Did I really just compare being trans to Nazi Germany? Get a grip, Eris.

"Ah... hi?" I started.

Julia whispered something in Luna's ear. She muttered something back, then nodded and faced me.

"Hi."

We stood there for a few seconds. I swallowed and looked around.

Julia cleared her throat, "So, um, you think Eris is autistic, right?"

Luna grabbed her phone, and started typing on it. Was she really just ignoring me? What the hell?

Eventually, she showed me what she was looking for. It was some gif of a poorly drawn creature, with confetti popping around it. What did that even mean? What was the point of that?

Looking back up to face her, I could see that she was failing to stifle laughter. Wait. Was it just a joke?!

She nodded, and said to Julia, "Yeah. Autism."

"Um!" I spoke up, "What the fuck is going on!"

"Autism," said Luna.

"Huh? So... you think I'm autistic? Why?"

She shrugged, "Vibes. I dunno."

"That... that's not how it works! You can't just decide if I'm autistic based on vibes. I mean, what if I'm actually not?"

She shrugged again, "So what? It doesn't really matter. If you really wanna know for sure then, like, get a diagnosis, I guess."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Easier said than done. Unhelpful!"

"Autism," she said with finality.

Utterly exhausted from whatever... that was, I retreated to familiar territory. In other words: Sean fucking Murphy. I found him discussing something - I think it was a movie, or maybe a TV show? - with a friend I hadn't met before.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do with myself. I couldn't just interrupt his conversation, obviously. Hm. Cake?

Cake was indeed found promptly, and I took a slice, along with a glass of pop. I had been trying to cut back on my habit of drinking it all the time, but it was a birthday party. This was the first one besides my own I'd been to since I was, like... eight years old.

Sean started talking to me while I was sitting on the couch and in the middle of eating my slice of cake: "So, Eris, how's it going?"

"Mmph," I replied, trying desperately to chew faster. Why did I take such a large bite? Worse, there was a bit of icing on my lip.

Finally, I swallowed, licking off the white icing. I looked up at Sean.

"Um. Eating cake. Ari's fine. Uh, my mom's started dating, apparently..." I trailed off, "What about, um, what about you?"

"Oh, y'know. The work for uni's piling up on me; I quit my job, actually."

"Wait, the one at the pharmacy?"

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his head, "It was just getting pretty draining, and I kinda wanna focus on school right now. I don't need the money."

I didn't know how to feel about that. Admittedly, I liked seeing him when I went to pick up his prescription. That didn't matter though; we were friends, so I could see him whenever I wanted.

More importantly, it reminded me of how I was still a total NEET. It was... embarrassing. I felt ashamed when placed in comparison. We were about the same age, but Sean was doing so much better than me. It was hard not to feel like I was pathetic, and no amount of positive affirmations were effective against it.

I needed to get a job. I had to! I couldn't just be a leech! Unfortunately, I completely lacked physical strength, and I was absolutely terrible with people. That ruled out most jobs that didn't require higher education. What could I even do, write? Ha. As if.

Obviously, then, I had to go back to school. Get a GED, go to college, all that stuff. That brought on its own terrifying problems. If even Sean fucking Murphy was overwhelmed by the workload, what chance did I stand at-

"Eris? Are you okay?"

I realized I was tearing up, once again. God, why did I cry all the time now? It was almost like a decade of bottling up all your emotions is bad for you. I shrunk into the couch and hid my face in my hands. This was mortifying: I was crying in front of Sean, in front of his friends, all because of my own insecurities.

Someone sat down on the couch next to me - one guess who that could be. A pause; I sniffled. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "What's wrong?"

I couldn't form words. Agh! Mortifying, mortifying, mortifying. I wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. Instead, I leaned into his chest. It was warm. Comforting. I shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be reveling in this contact I had explicitly forbidden myself from.

He smelled so nice, though.

Slowly, gently, he stroked my hair. I couldn't handle it. I sat up, extricating myself from his arms - woah, déjà vu. Looking around, I was at least glad that it wasn't like I feared, everyone wasn't just standing around gawking at me. "Um. Nothing. It's- it's stupid."

"Bet it isn't, if you're crying about it."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't prevent a little smile, "I- I dunno. I just... you're doing so well and I'm doing... nothing. I don't- I don't have a job, I don't know how I could even... do that. It all seems really far away, and I don't know what to... what to even..."

The lump in my throat grew too heavy to say anything more.

The look he gave me broke my heart: wide-eyed in earnest sadness. Was it pity? Was he pitying me?

"Eris... you don't need to work to be valuable. Your worth isn't... it's not calculated by how productive you are, or whatever. I like having you around, just 'cause you're you, you know?"

I countered, "But it's not that simple. I'm not a net zero, I'm a net negative. I drain money from my mom and give little to nothing in return."

Sean frowned and shook his head, "I don't think that's a healthy way to look at things. Relationships aren't some... give and take. I've met your mom a few times now, and she's great! She isn't paying to feed and house you out of some, like, expectation that you'll pay her back. She does that because she love you, Eris."

The tears threatened to return, but I held steadfast, "I... I guess so, but I- I wanna be able to help her out. I don't wanna just drain on her resources. Actually, um, I started helping out with chores."

He did the head thing, then smiled, "Yeah, exactly! there are ways to feel helpful without having to get a job, if you don't think you can deal with that. I'm glad you found something you can do."

I grinned back. God, how did he have this uncanny ability to make me feel better about myself? It didn't matter. Friends, friends, friends.

The moment grew quiet. I coughed. "Um, presents?" I offered, "I got you one."

He blinked, then averted his eyes from mine, "Yeah, uh, yeah."

Sean called for everyone's attention, and he began opening his small stack of gifts, thanking each person for what they had given. I wanted to pay attention, but I kept getting distracted. I had never received this many presents in almost my whole life; not in a single birthday or Christmas. Perhaps before Dad left, before the other kids realized I was weird, maybe then I had something similar.

Were adults even supposed to have birthday parties? I thought they just ended after your 18th. It felt a bit like cheating to keep getting stuff past that.

The other thing distracting me was, as is often the case, Sean himself. There was something mesmerizing about the way his muscles flexed when he tore through wrapping paper. Maybe that was just a me thing. Yeah... probably.

Before I knew it, he had reached my gift. It was so awful and thoughtless, I now realized. What did he need ink for? He probably had a whole bunch already, including this colour. Speaking of colour, why did I pick based on what I liked instead of what he liked? I didn't even know his favourite colour. I was literally - figuratively! - going to die.

"Oh, nice," he said, peering at the bottle, then at me, "Fountain pen ink, yeah?"

I gulped, and nodded, "Um, yeah, I, uh- um, I was thinking you could... think of me when you write with it?"

Why did I say that?! Of all the things I could- fuck! One: way too flirty. Two: seriously? Asking him to think of me? That was so pathetic; everyone was going to make fun of me forever.

He just smiled at me, though. I could feel the growing grin on my own as I became lost in his stupid eyes. I needed to stop doing this shit.

Suddenly, Quinn, who had been here the entire time - and whom I had been avoiding because of something embarrassing I said last week - spoke up: "Okay! This is an intervention. You two need to stop doing this shit. Like, jeez."

She was right. We couldn't just keep smiling and looking into each other's eyes. we were just friends, and we needed to accept that.

"Just freaking kiss already! We all know you want to!"

What?!

I could feel my face turn red. We couldn't- we were just- we had agreed to be-

Sean gave me the look. My eyes were wide open, mouth just the tiniest bit agape. I nodded, nigh-imperceptibly. I wanted this. So badly.

His face grew ever closer to mine. This was a terrible idea, but I couldn't look away. I leaned in to meet him.

Our lips touched. Softly, at first, then with force. The first thing I noticed was how different it was from our real first kiss. If I could, I'd revise history to make this our first. I wasn't completely inexperienced, I didn't have halitosis, and - holy shit - I had forgotten how nice kissing him had felt.

His lips were soft, softer than mine, which were seemingly always chapped. Yet, in contrast, there was just the slightest bit of stubble tickling against me.

We didn't go for tongue, or make obnoxious noises. It was a slow, sensible kiss - which also happened to blow up all of my neurons, or so it felt.

Eventually, our faces broke apart. I stared blankly up at him, mouth hanging open.

My brain recovered enough to ask a question: "Does, uh, does this mean we're dating again?"

Sean fucking Murphy - my boyfriend, once again - nodded.

***
-- Day 270 --

I laid on Sean's bed, sprawled on my stomach and kicking my legs behind me. At his desk, Sean was writing in his journal. With the ink I had given him! I couldn't help but watch, I found it a little... mesmerizing.

There was something about the way the tip of the pen sometimes spread in two, revealing the moist, dark red of the ink. It, uh, well, it reminded me of a vagina. I bit my lip. he pressed down with just the right amount of force, controlling the pen so deftly. One could only imagine his dexterity in other fields.

I was enthralled as he wrote, hand moving in neat strokes across the page. I had seen his handwriting; it was in an entirely different world than my own. I never had the fine motor control, nor the patience. Every time I wrote something on paper, my hand was always struggling to catch up with everything I wanted to say that was already in my brain.

Meanwhile, Sean was steady, methodical when he wrote. There was no rush. I almost wished there was a rush, though, because there was something I wanted to do with him tonight. Something special.

We were all alone in his apartment tonight. Sean's roommate - whom I still hadn't met - was gone overnight on, as Sean explained to me, a quest to obtain spell components. I didn't ask anything after that.

Sean stopped writing and put his pen down. Now was my time to strike. I hopped off of his bed, walked up behind him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He looked back at me, "Huh? Whaddya need?"

I smirked, "I was just thinking, uh, I could give you something to write about."

Nope. That line was terrible. Could I get a do-over?

He tilted his head like a confused dog, "Huh? What do you mean?"

And... he didn't get it. I knew being coy wouldn't work, and I tried it anyway. Clearly, I had to be more direct: "Sex."

Too direct!

"Oh," he blinked, "Ohhh. You sure?"

I nodded emphatically, "Yes! I'm ready, and I'm prepared, and I wanna lose my virginity tonight!"

Unbeknownst to Sean, a month prior I had made an extremely embarrassing online purchase. It was a necessary investment, however, because I needed the practice. I had bought lube, a butt plug, and a dildo. Even thinking those words made me irrationally nervous that mind-readers would judge me for it.

Regardless, it was worth it. Learning to unlock the hidden secrets of my prostate was... uh... spiritually enlightening. The dildo proved the most intimidating technique at all. Now, after weeks of training, I was ready to put what I had learned to the test.

"Well," he grinned, standing up from his chair, "Get ready, then."

Holy crap, it was actually happening! It wasn't going to go like last time, no, this time it was gonna be good

. I looked down at his crotch, trying to X-ray through his jeans. It was hard to tell, but I could tell it was hard.

I jumped back onto the bed, giddy with excitement. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I shucked my skirt and shirt in record time.

"Woah, Eris," Sean, who hadn't even unzipped his jeans, laughed, "You gotta take your time with it to have fun, y'know?"

"You're the expert, I guess," I stuck out my tongue.

He got around to the unzipping thing, and rolled his eyes lightheartedly, "I don't think I've actually had as much sex as you think."

"But you have had sex. Technically, you have infinitely more experience with it than I do." Truly, my logical arguments were incontrovertible.

"Hm... can't argue with that." Sean agreed, as he finally removed his jeans.

He sat down on the bed next to me, but I really just wanted to have him on top of me. There was something so oddly... euphoric about being in that position. I was unreasonably excited for it.

"So... how far do you wanna go, with your first time?"

"Um... well, uh... I'd like it if you took control?" I meekly replied, "Just so you know, though... I'm ready to go all the way."

"So you want me to be dominant, huh?"

"Um, um, yeah! If it doesn't make you, uh, uncomfortable, or anything..." I hoped he didn't think I was objectifying him, or something.

He smirked, "Eris, you're so fucking cute."

What?!

Sean leapt atop me, pressing me into the mattress and his lips onto my own. It wasn't like our typical smooches; this was passionate and lustful. His tongue soon began probing for a breach, and I allowed him entry.

Oh my God, what a rush! I had read a lot - a lot - of smut like this, but it was an entirely different experience to feel it for myself. Totally, utterly surreal. Me, the girl pinned underneath the hot guy. I wanted to squeal!

Instead, I moaned. I was trying really hard not to, but I couldn't hold it! Unfortunately for me, it set an apt precedent for my future behaviour in sex.

He began teasing at my breasts, reaching underneath my bra to fondle them. My boobs were, well, boobish by this point. Rather than being pointy, they had rounded out beneath the nipples. They weren't big, yet, if they'd ever be, but they were as boobly as any boob could be. That was really all I could ask for.

His gentle touch sent a shiver down my spine, so different from the force by which he had placed me in this position. It was exactly what I needed, though. Another little moan found its way out.

I looked up into his blue-green eyes, intently searching into my own. I squirmed underneath his gaze, but we remained locked in mutual focus.

No longer capable of waiting, I pulled his shirt from his body, soaking in the sight of his nude, muscular chest. Those abs and pecs were in desperate need of my hands feeling them up; I certainly wasn't going to refrain.

God, Sean's body was firm everywhere, hardly a trace of squishy adipose tissue. So unlike my own, which, on estrogen, had grown thick thighs and a layer of fat around the waist. I was worried he would think I was too chubby, but it seemed, from the way he was running his hands along my sides, he enjoyed my body just fine.

Well, that and the way his boner was poking into my leg.

"You, ah, you have lube, right?" I asked. I had of course brought my own, but it was all the way in my bag, which I had left on the couch.

Sean nodded, reaching over to grab it out of his bedside drawer. Fuck, those biceps could flex. He pulled off his boxers, leaving him entirely naked, and scooped some onto his fingers. My eyes were laser-focused on his cock as he slicked across it with his hands.

I wasn't completely useless in my penis-induced stupor, though, and managed to remove my own underwear. It was time. Holy crap, it was time. I was actually going to have sex! I really did squeal, this time.

The fact we could both see my own penis didn't even bother me, right now. I knew we could ignore it. Sure, some people liked to use it - not me!

With the remaining lube on his fingers, he started prodding at my butt. I blushed, and his eyes widened in surprise, as I felt him pop the plug out and hold it up between us. Fuck, that was still such a weird feeling.

He laughed, "Eris, have you had this in the whole day?"

My blush grew to a flush, "I, uh, plead the fifth?"

"We live in Canada."

"Uhh, you know, whatever. I just wanted to make it easier for you," I smiled shyly, "It was only logical."

He sighed and shook his head, "Like I said, so fucking cute." He smothered my lips with another intense kiss. If I wasn't laying down, I felt like I would've swooned.

Sean placed the plug on the drawer, and, finally, began the process of inserting his fingers into my hole. Slowly, at first, prospecting the area around my anus, then slipping one, soon two, in. It was wide open, of course.

He had his fucking fingers inside me! Holy shit! Since they hadn't reached the prostate, it was almost more ticklish than pleasurable, but there was still a hell of a lot of pleasurable there. There was no pain yet, which seemed to be a good sign that my research and preparation had paid off.

He kept teasing at it like that for what had to be, in my mind, an hour, while my anticipatory squirming steadily grew in intensity.

"You ready?" Sean whispered in my ear.

I nodded more energetically than I ever had in my life. Really, this felt like where my life would actually begin, anyway.

Before I knew it, he was in.

That wasn't to say he thrust the whole length at once, but I felt as the head of his dick popped through. Sean's penis was inside me. Surreal. Unbelievable. Inconceivable.

Undeniable. This was, somehow, me. I was laying underneath Sean fucking Murphy as his cock poked into my anus. More like Sean fucking me.

I moaned, again. Louder this time.

Steadily, he pushed it further in, inch by inch. I winced as it stretched at the walls of my rectum; I hadn't completely avoided the pain. Finally, I felt his tip push at my prostate, then his balls hitting my cheeks. He was all the way in; I was filled. I whimpered at the otherworldly feeling.

"How's that?" asked Sean, "Is it painful, or-"

"Go for it." I stared into his eyes.

"I just don't wanna hurt-"

"Sean! Just fuck me!" I growled. Hmph, wasn't I supposed to be the submissive one?

He chuckled, "Okay, okay. You asked for it!"

Then the thrusting began.

Like a mechanical piston starting up and falling into a rhythm, it started slowly, almost as slow as the first time going on, then faster, and faster, and faster. Holy crap. Holy shit. Oh my fucking God!

I soon found myself bouncing up and down into the pillow behind me, as his cock filled and emptied me on repeat. I couldn't hope to hold back the torrent of moans and whimpers. My asscheeks clapped with each thrust - that was another part of me that had grown with HRT. Sometimes I found myself twisting around in the mirror to stare at it.

I hoped he was enjoying the sight. I was fucking enjoying the feeling, that was for sure.

Sean's face was set in rigid concentration, sweat beading on his brow as he stared down at me. His hands were clutching at my waist for balance, kneading the folds of my flesh. My hands, too, were grasping at his abdomen, his abdominal muscles flexing with the rhythm.

He was so focused on me, intent only on screwing my brains out. The way that thought made me feel was... indescribable.

The cycle continued, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, as I drew closer and closer to completion. I had no idea how he was maintaining the stamina for this, but I wasn't complaining.

Eventually, with a shriek and a drawn out, shuddering breath, I experienced my first prostate orgasm. My entire body trembled like a magnitude seven earthquake from the sudden burst of pleasure, with aftershocks petering out for a full minute beyond that.

He came not long after I did, filling me up with his seed. I never thought that this would actually happen, but it did. I lost my virginity. I was fucked. By Sean fucking Murphy.

After a few moments to recover from... all that, he mumbled, "So... how'd I do?"

Calming down enough to form coherent words, I replied, "I... oh my fucking God, Sean, that was awesome."

He grinned, "I'm glad. For what it's worth..." he leaned down to kiss me on the lips, softly this time, "You were incredible."

I was utterly spent, after that. I just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, I had to go wash the cum out of my butt. After that detour, making sure to brush my teeth as well - I was ultra-prepared; I brought my own toothbrush - I collapsed, limbs no longer able to move, back into his bed.

"Wanna cuddle?" asked Sean.

That was definitely fine by me; I nodded. He wrapped me up in his arms. God, I loved being the little spoon. I felt so safe, protected, small. Sean kissed me on the head, whispering, "Goodnight, Eris."

I quickly fell asleep.

***
-- Day 271 --

I awoke, after the nicest sleep I had ever known, to the sound of a notification from my phone, and the feeling of Sean's morning wood against my butt. Life was good, in a way I never really believed was possible.

Rolling over to face him, I kissed his half-asleep face on the lips. "Good morning, Sean."

"Mornris," he slurred his morning greeting.

Next, I checked the notification. It was a text from my mom: "Date went great! Think I have a girlfriend now!"

"Huh."

"What?"

"Mom says her date went well. She thinks she has a girlfriend now."

"Huh," he agreed, "Good for her."

"Yeah."

Wait. My brain finally began booting up, caught on a specific word: girlfriend...?

My mom was a lesbian?!