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Two weeks ago, I met the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Our chance encounter outside the Clubs & Societies building led to two weeks of flirting more skillful than I’d ever thought I was capable of. Is he a prolific campus drug dealer? Yes, but we all like a bad boy – especially when he’s built like a tank. Now he’s in my bed, and he’s about to say the sexiest four words a man with calf muscles thicker than my thighs could ever mutter.
—Can I kiss you?
—Uh… yeah.
I’m playing it cool, but I’m sure he can see through that – weeks of anticipation are hard to hide. We start making out, and before long I’m straddled over him while he pulls off his shirt to reveal glorious, hairy muscles. He looks up at me with boyish hunger, and I’m ready to go the rest of the way. There’s just one small problem: I didn’t pay enough attention in school.
Seven years ago, I was the only out-and-proud gay boy in my Year 9 class. I watched our teacher explain the anatomy of the vulva with a thirteen year-old’s cool indifference. I don’t need to know this, I thought. In true high school homsexual fashion, my mind was probably on some straight crush. But of course, it was the 2017 sex-ed curriculum, and Ms. Frost wasn’t going to mention trans people in any real way. The class had prepared me to drunkenly put a condom in the dark, but it never prepared me for this. One day, I was going to be hooking up with the man of my (wet) dreams at four in the morning, and I’d need to find the clitoris.
I’m ready to play it cool again, to just pretend I know what I’m doing, but I think I’ll save myself the embarrassment. I kiss him on the neck before awkwardly whispering in his ear.
—So… I actually haven’t done this before.
—What do you mean?
—Like vaginas and stuff.
—Oh, that’s okay. I prefer masculine terms by the way.
Feeling like the world’s most sexually experienced virgin, I watch as he takes my hand. He runs it down his fuzzy abs, into his boxers, and places it where I can feel his cock. It’s a different size and shape, but it has the same effect on me as any other, its warmth and firmness betraying his horniness. I kiss his neck again, then his chest, then his stomach. I move in for a taste. School can prepare you for anything in theory, but the real world is always more complicated. But there’s only one way to learn.