Delgano: A Dark Contemporary Interracial Romance

“Have you ever been fellated?”

“Is that English?” He frowned. “I’ve never heard that word.”

“Felaçao,” she translated. “You know what that means, right? When someone puts their mouth on your?—”

“If I’ve ever had my dick sucked. I understand.”

To her credit, she didn’t blink.

“And your answer?” she prodded.

“Yes, I’ve had my dick sucked.” He’d never reached orgasm, no matter how skilled the woman might have been, or even if she left behind those erotic lipstick stains he loved, but that wasn’t what the doctor lady asked.

“Have you ever had anal sex?”

“No, and I went to Catholic school. There, it was practically a requirement to graduate.”

Her mouth twitched with what looked like it would have been a smile. “Anything else?”

By the time he was ready, he would dip his head between his lover’s legs only for her to laugh at him and point to the bend in her elbow.

“Not that I know of.”

“You know, there’s such a thing as being asexual,” she prefaced. “Do you think you’re?—”

“No, I want it,” he clarified, nearly leaping from his chair. “I definitely want it.”

“Do you think about it?”

“All the time.”

“Do you have dreams?”

“These days? All the time.” He knew Sayeda had something to do with the increase in his fantasies, but he wished he knew why she made a difference. “Dr. Bentley, I’m twenty-four. I should not be having this conversation at my age.”

“That’s still quite young, Adrían.”

“It’s not that young. Times like this, I feel like there are parts of me that continued to age and others that became frozen in time.”

“So, what happens when you try?”

“I see…it. I see everything.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes so hard that the room momentarily blurred. “Dr. Bentley, my mother was the most important person in the world to me, but someone treated her like she wasn’t worthy of a waste bin. She died in front of so many eyes, and I find myself wondering…was she embarrassed? Was she in pain? Did she know I was watching? Did that make it worse? Could she have survived, but the combination of everything made her not fight slipping away?”

At eleven, he didn’t understand.

At twenty-four, he understood too well.

What made it worse was that his mother died when she was twenty-six, and he saw how much more life she’d had left the closer he approached the same age.

“How do you think it affects you?” Dr. Bentley asked. “It’s traumatic, yes, but what about the trauma do you think is most at play in your inability to pursue physical intimacy?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I no longer feel love.”

“Do you think there’s a difference between experiencing love and recognizing it?”

“I don’t think there’s a difference, no.”

“Adrían,” she searched his face, “when was the last time you truly cared for someone?”