Intersex: Noun
1: a term used to describe people who are born with biological sex characteristics that don’t fit the binary of male or female. These characteristics can include reproductive organs, anatomy, hormones, or chromosomes. Intersex traits may be apparent at birth, or they may not appear until puberty or adulthood.
Ash
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ash” Trevor whispered hotly against my ear. His licking and tugging on my lobe drove me crazy but what dominated my attention took place down below.
Trevor’s cock pumped in and out of my ass with long, powerful strokes. He stretched my hole to the screaming brink every time his meaty balls slapped my taint but the pleasure he brought me far exceeded any pain. I raked long red welt lines in his back trying to keep him inside me. I could not let this pleasure go. Trevor filled me. He thrilled me. He electrified every nerve in my body. He punched me closer to sexual heaven with his every thrust inside me. I reached higher as he rutted deeper. I brushed the hem of God’s robe and shivered. Just a moment more, just one more plunge of his incredible cock inside me and I would fly free from my mortal constraints. Then it all flew apart.
“Not yet–! I’m not–! Oh–! Fuck! oh, god! YES!” Trevor threw back his head and cried out in rapturous release. He looked on the face of God and tumbled back to Earth, consumed in wracking spasms of ecstasy. We hugged and kissed with desperate energy as he pumped me full of his seed. I bumped noses with another, opened my eyes, and watched as Alejo kissed Trevor’s throat above me. I shivered as our gazes met. His golden stare penetrated me with intense hunger. My gut clenched, aching and needy while impaled on another man’s organ.
Trevor slid free from my hole and Alejo’s cock simultaneously, toppling over to crash in a spent, satisfied heap in our bed, leaving me naked and defenseless before Alejo, whose monstrous cock twitched to get at me, much like a spirited stallion stamping and yanking at his master’s reins. Runnels of clear, sticky leche, Alejo’s “cock milk” drooled from the slit in a brazen display of potency. His horny beast was still hungry after devouring Trevor’s ass and now it set its sights on me. I couldn’t tear my gaze from it.
Alejo’s cock jutted proudly from his loins, a symbol of lascivious authority. It was angry red in color, still glistening with Trevor’s juices. Below, Alejo’s balls hung swollen with fertile promise, aching to pump me full of their prurient potential.
I shivered with excitement, my emotions still raw and feverish from Trevor’s cornholing. I gnashed my teeth in cheated fury “Damn it, Alejo! I was right there! Couldn’t you have waited for one. More. Second?” I flailed in exasperation.
“I, for one, am glad he didn’t” Trevor chortled breathlessly.
“Not helping, Trevor!” I snapped.
“Settle Princess, I’ve got you.” The sexy Mexican bastard chuckled deep in his throat as he took me by the hand. I watched in awe as he kissed and sucked starting at the pulse point in my wrist and making his way up my arm. I quickly forgot my frustration as he left a trail of kisses and bite marks across my shoulder, then up my neck to my ear. He nibbled gently on the lobe and probed inside the shell with his unimaginably lewd tongue. My breathing grew ragged with need and my small cock jumped with every nip of his teeth.
I trembled with anticipation as he rocked me back in the pillows and threw my legs over his shoulders. He propped on his hands and straightened his legs as if doing push-ups over me while Trevor helpfully lined up Alejo’s cock with my winking rosebud. We kissed ravenously as, a moment later, my Mexican lover sheathed his enormous cock in my core with a single smooth stroke. I tangled my fingers in his long hair and held on for dear life. “Oh, my god, ALEJO!”
I quickly regretted my earlier frustration as time passed. Alejo rutted me to the razor’s edge of climax time after time only to yank me back and start over again. He quickly reduced me to a blubbering, incoherent mess of sexual desperation craving relief from this delicious torture. I whined his name without shame or remorse “Lejo…!!!”
He fucked my ear with his tongue, driving me out of my mind. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” He blew cold air on my ear, inducing shivers of bliss.
“Cum!” I leaned into his kiss. He nearly sucked my tongue out of my skull and it was magnificent. I broke off to suck air plaintively. I wept so hard that I couldn’t see a damn thing. I nearly screamed in ecstasy but I could only brush the fluttering hem of God’s robe. I sobbed in aggravation. “I need to cum. Let me cum!”
“Beg for it” he grinned wickedly and drew the full measure of his cock across my prostate as a virtuoso drew sweet music from the strings of a Stradivarius. Every nerve in my body sang with each draw of his meaty bow. My breath caught, I saw white, my head rolled back along with my eyes. Alejo continued his erotic assault on my pleasure centers as he sucked on my Adam’s apple. “Beg me for it and I’ll let you cum” he growled huskily against my ear.
“Please…?” I squandered my dignity for the pleasure only he could give me. Pleeeeeaaassssse let me cum?” I begged. “Please? Please?”
Alejo sat back on his haunches pulling me upright with him. He stabbed upward as I fell downward. We crashed in the middle to achieve mutually assured sexual destruction. I wrapped my legs and arms around him as Alejo teased me relentlessly.
“Say my name” he flashed a devilish smile.
Pull-thrust-pull-thrust….
“I love how you say my name.” He clamped down on my shoulder with his teeth.
Pull-thrust-pull-thrust….
“LEJO!!! PLEASE!!!”
He stabbed deep into my core and sent me flying into heaven’s arms. I painted his belly with my creamy white essence as Alejo flooded my core with his own. Our bodies locked together in the throes of our release. I basked in the glory of heaven as only this man could bring me. Mortals could not look upon heaven for long and soon I succumbed to gravity’s pull, joining Alejo to crash into bed, our limbs akimbo. Trevor jumped to lick us clean and share the fruit of our passion in a hot, creamy, three-way kiss. Afterward, I nuzzled my lovers, drunk on yummy “feel good” endorphins. “I love you” I purred drowsily and closed my eyes to sleep.
I roused to consciousness some time later, snuggled between my lovers, a sweaty, sated mess. I smiled as Trevor and Alejo caressed me with loving strokes of their fingers. I met their kisses with my own.
“I have to give it to you, Alejo. You teach a master class in fucking.” Trevor offered a first bump. Alejo looked distracted until he saw the fist. He bumped it with a smile.
“Thanks” he stretched mightily then flopped in lazy comfort.
I found my voice after a couple of tries and addressed Alejo. “You’ve been relentless since our hookup at the gym Monday, not that I’m complaining!” I turned his chin until our gazes met. “Is everything okay?” I caressed his cheek.
Alejo placed his hand on top of mine “yeah, I’m just thinking–”
“Oh, fuck,” Trevor snickered and Alejo flipped him off.
“Fuck off,” he snorted. “Anyway, I’m planning a hiking trip for Saturday. It’ll be my last chance to go before it gets too hot. Do you want to go?”
“I’ve never been hiking” I bit my lip, thinking. “Can we go on Sunday? I have plans with Shea on Saturday.”
“Sure, we can do that,” Alejo nodded.
“What about you, Trevor?” I turned to face him.
He wrinkled his nose sourly at the idea. “Hiking isn’t my idea of a good time. It’s more like what I do when my car breaks down.”
“You love going to the beach," I pointed out.
“Yeah, where I can jump in the water when I get too hot. If I get tired I can just float.”
“You don’t have to go” Alejo sounded put off and I made my decision.
“I’ll go,” I smiled. “I want to try everything at least once.”
“Alright, I guess then I’ll go too.” Trevor sighed in resignation.
“You don’t have to go just because of me” I frowned.
“I know, I want to go” he gave me a peck on the nose.
“Then I don’t want to hear one grumpy word out of you all weekend.” I poked him in the chest.
Alejo laughed, “he’s got you, bruh.”
“Yeah whatever,” Trevor brushed it off and we made plans for our outing.
Saturday arrived and I was so nervous! I met Shea a few months ago through work. She was intersex like me only her specific condition was different from mine. We went out for drinks after work a few times and it felt so good to talk to someone else who understood what I went through. I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
I mean, Trevor and Alejo listened and they supported me. I loved them for putting themselves in my shoes and empathizing with my struggles but Shea lived it like I did. She had personal experience. She gave voice to the little things that I could not describe adequately. Anyway, Shea offered to introduce me to a couple of her friends who were also intersex and here we were.
We chose to meet at Frank and Lupe’s in Old Town Scottsdale since I had been there before. I parked and saw Shea waving from an umbrella table outside the restaurant. The two people with her were a study in contrasts.
One was a fair-skinned woman in her mid-to-late 20's with loose blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and vivid blue eyes. She wore a loose, frilly, off the shoulder blouse, violet in color, with stretchy black pedal pusher pants and purple sandals. She sparkled with gold fantasy jewelry, fairies and dragons. She was tall and very mannish in appearance with a square face, broad shoulders, and skinny hips. I could not get past her most obvious feature as it stared me literally in the face.
How to say it delicately? The woman was well-endowed. Like, the military could have used her bra to fling catapult boulders. I estimated her conservatively as wearing a triple-F cup. I hoped she never went jogging because she might have given herself concussions. My nerdy friends might have said she was packing a pair of Death Stars. I stared in awe for a few seconds or maybe I was stunned. I moved on quickly.
I couldn’t place the gender of the second person at all. I estimated them to be about my age and six inches taller than my 5’2” with a pale honey bronze complexion. They groomed their lustrous black hair in a combination of a wolf tail and a low fade with a stylish mess of curls on top. They had a delicate, if masculine facial structure with thick eyebrows. Their eyes were large and vibrant green in color with thick dark lashes. Their lips were full and sensual, currently pulled in a bright grin as they laughed at something Shea said. They wore a sheer, fitted black mesh shirt with a lace pattern. I saw insanely cut and masculine musculature underneath. I scanned a pretty silver chain belt next, then fitted blue jeans tucked into Doc Martens boots with chunky three inch soles and shiny buckles. They wore black eyeliner, green eye shadow, and deep garnet lipstick. Silver piercings glittered in their ears, I took note of a stud and three rings on the right side and a single ring on the left. An Egyptian ankh hung from a steel chain over their heart. I felt keenly underdressed in a loose green T-shirt and jeans with plain sneakers.
They got to their feet to greet me. The blonde’s voice was deeper than Trevor’s. “Hi, I’m Lee,” she beamed.
“I’m Jalan(1),” the dusky one purred, even their voice defied gender.
I pledged to not start my sentences with “um” today. “Um, hi! I’m Asher.” –ah, shit!
Jalan looked at me with visible excitement. “Shea said you had the most gorgeous red hair but nothing prepared me for reality!”
I giggled, blushing. “Um, thank you!” –god damnit!
We sat and ordered lunch, starting with drinks and a nachos appetizer. Shea picked up the conversation. “Let’s get the obligatory stuff out of the way. First order of business, present your pronouns! All of you know I use ‘she/her’.”
Lee waved “I’m ‘she/her’ too!”
“‘They/them’,” Jalan supplied.
“I use ‘he/they’” I joined in but Jalan gave me a funny look. Did I say something wrong? Suddenly I felt very self-conscious.
Shea kept things going. “Okay, now to explain what makes us intersex. Keep it brief, please. I’ll start–I’m Androgen Insensitive or AIS which means that I’m genetically male but my body doesn’t recognize male hormones. As a result I developed mostly as a woman.”
Lee continued “I was born with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome or PCOS. I’m genetically female but I had abnormally high testosterone during childhood. It affected how I developed.” She struck a “TA-DA” pose with a manic grin on her face and I couldn’t help but giggle. Thankfully, she took no offense and finished her story by drawing air quotes. “‘Technically’ PCOS isn’t an intersex condition but some of us struggle with gender dysmorphia–meaning I don’t fit in well with my sex assigned at birth. I feel more comfortable in the intersex community.”
“Why thank you, Lee. We like you too!” Shea smiled.
“Mutants rule, sapiens drool,” Jalan toasted and they clinked their drink glasses together like genetic musketeers. They looked at me expectantly and I added my clink to the glasses. God, I loved nerds! After that it was Jalan’s turn to disclose what made them intersex.
“I’m a chimera” they crunched a tortilla chip, then licked their fingers daintily. “My mom was originally going to have twins but one of us failed in the womb. The surviving twin–me–absorbed my sibling into my body. I have my twin’s DNA all over my body. I even have a different blood type in places. What makes me intersex is how it all mixes below my waist. I’ll let you see if one day we become special friends.” They winked.
They looked at me expectantly and so I told them about Klinefelter Syndrome. I confided that I too was a chimera with a partial uterus (I kept that from the guys until my doctor accidentally mentioned it a couple weeks ago). It felt good to get it off my chest. I went through life keeping this damning secret. I never knew how much pushing people away affected me until I felt free to be myself. I likened it to being gay and in the closet but my secret meant that I could not connect with anyone, including gay people. That was next level loneliness. I took a deep breath and let it out.
Shea smiled “feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I feel much lighter. I feel free!” I beamed as our food arrived. Conversation fell back to small talk while we ate.
I learned that Lee owned her own business making custom dolls. She showed me some pictures on her phone. She made characters from classic tales and films like Jareth the Goblin King, Merlin, and Star Trek characters. She sculpted the heads by hand and made beautiful, intricate clothing, packing each doll with a heart containing herbs and gemstones to attract love and good health. I gawked at her prices. Her standard dolls sold for $500 apiece and special requests went as high as a thousand dollars each.
“I’m an online style influencer,” Jalan spoke next. “I do makeovers, makeup tutorials, skin care regimens, fashion advice, whatever comes to mind.”
My jaw hung open in astonishment. “You are about as visible as it gets!”
“That’s the idea!” Jalan beamed. “I want the public to see that we’re people the same as anybody else. Politicians can’t effectively attack us if nobody is afraid of us.”
I studied Lee and Jalan and I felt so plain, so ordinary. These were large personalities with clear identities. They created distinctive personas with a unique sense of style. Had I done that? Did I want to? What did I really know about myself? I was suddenly overcome with a sense of melancholy.
“I think we broke them,” Lee chuckled, waking me from my reverie. I finished my meal and sat back with a self-effacing smile.
“I was just thinking,” I looked down at myself. “I feel so lazy. I keep my head down and focus on adult stuff.”
Jalan propped on the table with a gentle smile. “Don’t feel bad, sweetie. You’re just trying to survive. We’ve been in your shoes. That’s why we’re here, to give you a leg up on life.” The others nodded emphatically in agreement.
“That is, if you want our help.” Shea gave me an inquiring look.
They wanted to give me a leg up on life? It sounded too good to be true and I knew from growing up in the group home that nobody helped for free. I couldn’t stop now when I was so close to my dream.
“I don’t have much, but,” I said softly, tentatively, “I’ll give what I have. What do you want?” That seemed to surprise them but Lee replied first.
“Be my friend and pose quietly for hours while I make clothes that actually fit you. Is that a Wal-Mart label? She shuddered with revulsion and crossed herself. I rubbed the label on the back of my shirt self-consciously. Meanwhile Jalan got in on the game.
“Be my friend and let me give you a makeover.”
Shea smiled brightly, “We’re already friends but keep helping me at work even after I’ve driven you crazy with questions. Deal?”
A smile crept slowly across my lips even as I felt like squealing with glee, “deal!”
After we got the obligatory stuff out of the way we focused on getting to know each other better. It turned out that Lee played D&D (Dungeons and Dragons) on Sundays. All four of us drew and painted but only Shea and I made a living at it. Jalan was “sort of” Goth. They loved the lacy Victorian clothing and the theatricality as well as some of the music but they were way too cheerful to mingle with other Goths long term. Speaking of theatricality, Jalan was a theater major who performed in local stage productions. They were also members of the local “Rocky Horror Picture Show” troupe.
“I’m the boring one” Shea heaved a self-effacing sigh. “I paint family portraits and landscapes.”
“Don’t let her fool you. Shea is the only artist between us to sell her work at a gallery.” Jalan stage whispered to me.
“She paints the prettiest animals,” Lee gushed. “Shea painted my three kitties as a Yule gift.”
“What about you, Asher?” Jalan asked. Shea mentioned were a hell of an artist.”
“She did?” I looked and Shea shrugged with a “sorry, but not sorry” smile.
I took a deep breath. I was not going to say “um” this time. It was harder than I expected. “I write and illustrate my own stories” I began. “I sell some prints online but it ain’t enough to pay the bills yet.”
Lee twiddled her fingers as if I offered a bit of salacious gossip. “I’d love to see your work sometime!”
I slid down in my seat and squirmed, “Well….”
Shea and Jalan cracked up laughing “look, he’s as red as a beet!”
“Damn you, Shea! I knew I should never have shown you” I grumbled but I wasn’t really angry. I kind of liked their attention. What kind of person did that make me?
“Why so embarrassed? It isn’t like you do porn.” Lee tittered. My silence damned me. Shea nearly spat her drink and Jalan cackled gleefully. Lee thrummed her fingers together with a toothy grin. “Now I have to see!”
“For the record, nobody is judging you, Ash.” Shea assumed a serious tone of voice. The others agreed emphatically. “We all dabble in erotic art. I speak for myself when I say that it’s natural curiosity.”
“I’d love to see your work. No judgement.” Lee tapped the table near me. I think she wanted to touch my hand but didn’t know if I would welcome her touch.
“That leads me to a question now that the bandage has been ripped off. Are you okay with talking about some very private, personal stuff with us?”
“It’s kind of soon, ain’t it?” I squirmed inwardly. I looked to Shea for help.
“This is the kind of stuff that comes up at support groups, Ash. You don’t have to talk about it if you feel uncomfortable but consider how just about everything we struggle with revolves around sex. We aren't judging you or pushing some kind of moral agenda. You will always be safe with us.”
I pondered this. My burning questions centered around sex like Shea said and I always felt safe with her. Hell, we talked about Trevor and Alejo. That “family friendly” ship sailed long ago. This was what I wanted all my life. Was I going to back out now? “Okay, let’s do this.” I took a steadying breath.
“Alright, I’ll start with the simple stuff. I’m demi-pan.” Jalan volunteered.
“Straight,” Lee joined in.
“Bi” Shea finished.
This confused me. “How can we have a sexual orientation if we don’t fit within a single sex?”
“We get to choose where other people can’t.” Lee chuckled deep in her throat. The more she talked the more she reminded me of Ursula the Sea Witch from “The Little Mermaid”.
“We choose our sexual orientation based on our gender identity,” Jalan explained more clearly.
I felt so dumb. “I’m sorry, I’ve never understood how all of that works.”
Jalan nodded as if I solved a mystery for them. “It takes a bit of getting used to. Gender identity is the sex you identify with most closely whether it is male, female, or something in between, non-binary. What is that for you?”
“I always thought I was a boy, so male–I guess?”
Jalan picked up “Okay, so that means your gender identity is male. Now, for your gender expression. What sex do you want to be? What do you want other people to think you are?”
That was harder to work through. I thought back to how Trevor and Alejo treated me. They called me “Princess” and opened doors for me. They treated me like I was special and I liked that. It was so hard to say it but if anybody understood, it would be these three. I looked around and noticed that we sat off in a far corner away from other people. I still lowered my voice. “I want to be a boy but sometimes I feel like a girl and–” I worried my lip anxiously. “I like when my guys treat me like a girl.”
“Your guys, plural? Interesting….” Lee sipped from her straw. Jalan shook their head at her and kept me on their line of thinking.
“It sounds to me like your gender expression is male but you’re open to exploring other options.”
“That feels right,” I agreed.
Jalan looked pleased. “Okay, so your gender expression for now is male. I can guess your sexual orientation from what you said. You like guys so that makes you gay, but what about male-presenting?”
“What’s that?” they lost me.
Jalan counted on their fingers. “Female-to-male transexuals, also biological males who are non-binary, gender fluid, or gender queer; basically anyone who can pass as male.”
“Gender-what? I blinked in confusion.
Shea came to my rescue. “Jalan is getting a little too specific. Non-binary, gender fluid, and gender queer are the same for purposes of our discussion today. They are guys who choose to mix masculine and feminine in their appearance. Maybe they wear makeup or feminine jewelry, hairstyles, or clothing.”
Jalan waved, “That’s me! I’m non-binary. Can you see yourself going out with someone like me?”
“Do you have a dick?” –oh, shit, I thought that out loud!
I scrambled to apologize but they got a big laugh out of it. I shut my mouth with a click of my teeth and went along with it.
Jalan propped their chin and flashed a sexy grin. “In fact, I do and I know how to use it. Thank you for asking!”
“So, what does that make me? I asked.
“A cock hound,” Shea laughed.
“You can’t catch fish without worms.” Lee whistled (not so) innocently.
“It makes you gay but open to non-binary men.” Jalan finished.
I learned a lot after that. Lee identified as a straight woman. Jalan was non-binary and “demi-pan”, “demi” meaning that they only felt sexual attraction to people already considered friends and “pan” meant they were into both sexes as well as non-binary. Shea identified as a bisexual woman. All of these complicated terms were just to identify who we were and what we liked in a system that did not acknowledge we existed. It sprained my brain to keep up with it. I left that day feeling like I had stepped into another world. Intersex was more than a word to me now. It was a group of people. They were my people, my friends. That felt so good.
To be continued….
(1): Jalan = jah-LAHN
AUTHOR NOTE: No two intersex people are alike. Ash’s symptoms reflect the experience of one person save where mentioned.
SPECIAL NOTE: I write in an imaginary world where sexually transmitted diseases do not exist. Sadly, they do in the real world. Stay safe. PrEP before you play and glove it before you love it.
