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
The week passed quickly with things at home growing more tense and awkward. Nobody was angry or upset. It was like a pervasive sadness hanging over our heads. It felt like gravity tried to pull us back together. We wanted our happy threesome back but I knew it was a mistake as soon as I wore makeup that morning.
It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a little eyeliner and a bit of color around my eyes, just a shade darker than my natural skin tone. I wanted to look like I wasn’t wearing any makeup, like “me, plus” and guys wore lip gloss all the time so I felt safe wearing that. I felt daring and added metallic ear studs. Alejo saw me and stiffened. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t have to. The expression on his face said it all. I heard “clown” and “drag queen” whispering in his voice all the way to work. I had to sit in the car for a while, forcing back a panic attack. I almost chickened out but I pushed through.
It struck me how deep and pervasive gender roles were. I sat on the verge of panic over a little makeup. If anything, that realization proved how much I needed to do this.
I grew up in a world where “male” and “female” were the only options and neither ever felt right to me. It was driving me crazy, I knew where that path led. I needed to take a different path for the sake of my happiness, for my sanity. Makeup might not be for me but I needed to know for sure. So, I risked public embarrassment and went to work. I mean, come on, like Carla wasn’t gonna make my life hell over it?!?
I noticed a few stares on my way in but no one laughed. I stopped by HR to check in with Laura. She beamed when she saw me. “Very nice” she complimented me. “I like that look on you.” She gave me a few pointers and said I was fine to go.
I bumped into Kevin out in the hall, going the opposite direction. He looked at me and smiled, “that color looks good on you.”
“Why thank you for saying so!” I looked back over my shoulder as he passed and wondered if he meant the makeup or my shirt. Whatever; he saw me, smiled, and carried on. That was about the best I could have hoped for.
The team was mostly supportive. Shea gave me a thumbs up, Selma treated me like it was just another day. Wes, Shea’s buddy and persistent shadow blinked owlishly at first, taken aback for a second but then he beamed cheerfully and went back to work. Esteban was older with a family at home. He represented the quintessential “straight guy” in our circle. His bushy eyebrows shot up like they were trying to take wing when he saw me. After that he shrugged and said “kids these days!” Carla, oh, Carla, she did not disappoint. She burst out laughing and waved me off like I was beneath her time. She continued sniggering behind my back the whole day. But honestly, if I had a list of every human on Earth and put them in order of people whose opinion mattered to me, especially when it came to style, Carla would be on the back of the last page, on the bottom, in microscopic print. In other words, I didn’t give a fuck what she thought.
I talked with Esteban and Shea at lunch and each had great points to offer me. Esteban said “Ash, we are artists. We are subversive by nature. You do you but be ready for pushback. Guys in a gym or in a locker room are gonna bust your chops because that’s what guys do. It won’t matter if you wear makeup or make a dumb play on the field. Some are going to take it more seriously so be ready for them. Don’t give up who you are to fit in because when you give, they’ll push. When does it stop? It doesn’t, ever, so stand your ground.”
Shea continued, “I can see it in your eyes. It’s scary, I know! Keep your eye on your goal and remember, you aren’t in this alone. Others have done it, so can you.”
Otherwise, the day went like any other day. The world didn’t come to a flaming end and hell didn’t freeze over. I survived and went out for drinks with the team to celebrate!
Friday nights were Game Night. I played Dungeons and Dragons at Esteban’s house and tonight Wes chose to join us in the dungeon as much-needed muscle. He created an Orcish Barbarian which to anyone not in the know was muscle on steroids. Our party of imaginary adventures had a crazy time rescuing his Orc from his captors and took a few minutes for character introductions. Ricky’s dashing scoundrel and Wes’ surly orc lobbed zingers at each other until we about died from laughing. After that Esteban challenged us with a gang of dastardly bandits. Our plan to lure them into a trap went tits up right away and the bad guys targeted my sorcerer with everything they had. “I’m taking an opportunity action” Ricky declared. Esteban allowed it so Ricky acted out his move. “I take a half move to step in front of the sorcerer and spend a charge from my shield. I activate ‘Wall of Force’.”
He leaned across me and raised his arm as if blocking with a shield. He leaned so close that our body heat flowed together like a ghostly lovers’ embrace. His sightless blue eyes faced ahead but I felt his hot breath against my ear. “No one will harm you as long as I draw breath.” He growled protectively against my skin.
Heat crept up my neck into my cheeks at his words. I tucked my head in reflex, giggling bashfully but that only brushed my ear against his lips. I gasped as we touched and blushed hotter still. He chuckled deeply in his sexy voice, “are you okay?”
I fanned myself and squeaked, “Give me a minute?”
The group cracked up laughing as Shea and Sofia, Esteban’s wife, fanned themselves, Sofia from across the room in the kitchen. “Wow, I’m blushing and I’m way over here!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so close” Ricky sat and apologized.
“Oh, no, it’s okay! I liked it!” I caught what I said and amended quickly “it was a cool maneuver!”
Combat ran long after that highlight and the game ran late as we sought a good stopping point. The group picked up to leave, thanking the Navarros (Esteban’s family) for their hospitality when our host yawned mightily. Esteban shook his head sleepily. “I don’t think I’m safe to drive you home tonight, Ricky. I’m sorry, but I can take you home first thing tomorrow morning. Our couch is comfy. I’ve slept on it many times.”
Esteban’s 12 year-old son, Lando, stage-whispered, “It’s a trap! It’s full of his farts!”
Esteban shooed the giggling scamp away, “half of ‘em are yours amigo!”
Ricky bit his lip anxiously. “I wouldn’t mind but I don’t want to leave Gwenny alone overnight.”
“Who is Gwenny?” Wes asked.
“My guide dog.” Ricky replied.
“We have dog allergies here so we can’t bring her over,” Sofia explained.
Shea considered driving Ricky home until she heard his address. “Ooh, that is in the opposite direction from me” She apologized.
“I can do it but I don’t know if my car is going to start yet.” Wes but his lip anxiously.
“Wes….” Esteban pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.
“I can drive Ricky home,” I volunteered. Ricky’s face lit with relief.
“Thanks, Ash!”
“No worries, just let me text my roommate to let him know I’ll be late.” I typed out my message.
“Roommate,” Ricky sounded curious so I told him a bit about Trevor. I didn’t feel right mentioning Alejo given how things were going between us.
Shea called my name and I looked up. “See you at Lee’s tomorrow for your final fitting, eight o’clock!”
“Final fitting?” Ricky asked.
“Yes, we’re taking Ash out for their first night clubbing. We’ve been working on a makeover and outfit for weeks.” Shea beamed. “You should come!”
“Oh, cool, I’ve never been to a club either. It sounds like fun!”
“please say you’ll come with us?” I asked him. “That way I’m not the only club virgin.”
“Sure, I’d love to go!” Ricky beamed.
“Are you sure, Ricky?” Sofia looked worried. “It’s really crowded and noisy. That isn’t the kind of place to take Gwenny.”
“Yeah, I’ll have to leave her home again.” He pondered this when Shea threw her arm across Ricky’s shoulders.
“We’ll take good care of you. Don’t worry.”
“What should I wear?” He asked.
“Dress to show off the goods.” She squeezed his biceps. “If you trust us, my friend Jalan will give you a makeover.”
“I put myself in your capable hands.” He grinned.
“You’re doomed, you know that right?” Wes teased.
“Whatever, I’m looking forward to it.” Ricky laughed.
After that we parted ways and I led Ricky outside. I assumed he knew his way around Esteban’s driveway but I kept an eye on him.
“Yoda is right over here. Watch the step down” I directed.
“Yoda,” he frowned in confusion.
“Yeah, sorry, Yoda is my car. I drive an old green Jetta.”
“Old green Jedi,” he laughed. “Cool!”
I preened giddily as he got the joke. I found it so easy to talk to Ricky. We shared a common language as nerds but it went deeper than that. He was a student at ASU, same as me. He had serious goals and ambitions in his life. “I’m working on my Bachelor’s in Communication. I want to work as an interpreter for the State Department.” He announced proudly.
“Oh, so that's why you speak so clearly?” I observed. He appeared to mull over his response before answering.
“It's kind of a chicken and the egg situation. I was born with perfect pitch so I speak what I hear. I’ve always picked up languages easily. I’m up to nine now.”
“You speak nine languages?” I gasped. “That is amazing, which?”
“I grew up speaking English, German, and Portuguese. I’m also fluent in French. I learned that in high school. I picked up Spanish from my relatives and friends at school. Same with Hindi and Chinese. My father taught me Arabic during his time in the service. I learned Italian from watching old Spaghetti Westerns with my dad. I am working on Korean and Russian but I can’t converse in those yet.”
“Portuguese?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, I was born here but my mom's family is from Brazil. My dad was too but he had German grandparents. I picked up his language naturally. I inherited perfect pitch from him.”
“That is so interesting!”
“Thank you,” he smiled. “How about you?”
“Oh, hell, I have a hard enough time with English, unless ‘Redneck’ counts as a language. I know a couple of cuss words in Spanish. Now, made up languages like Klingon and Huttese? I can talk your ears off.”
“What is our ETA!” He snarled in perfect Klingon. My toes curled in my shoes at the sound of his voice. It took me a moment to reply. I had to get my nerd boner under control.
That led to a playful argument about who was the best captain in “Star Trek”, our favorite Marvel movie (the last he saw before going blind was “Spider-man: No Way Home” so he knew all but the most recent), and Before we knew it we reached his place.
Ricky lived in a gated community with nice little apartments. As I figured he lived on the ground floor. I walked him to his door and said good night. “Come in, please?” He said. “I might need help with Gwenny.”
I started with surprise. “You live alone?”
“A lady checks on me in the mornings to do things around the house that I can’t and my mom stops in after work to cook and do my shopping. Otherwise, I have the place to myself. Mom has probably been by already to walk and feed Gwenny.”
“Wait,” I peered suspiciously. “Somebody already took care of the dog? Did you really need to come home tonight?”
He flashed a roguish smile. “Would you want to sniff Esteban’s farts all night?”
I winced, “okay, you have a point.”
“Come in, please? I don’t get any company. I’m enjoying our conversation. I’m not ready to say goodnight, yet.”
He tilted his head and gave me the saddest look with his bewitching blue eyes. I couldn’t resist. “Okay, but I can’t stay for long.”
He beamed like a little boy on Christmas morning and led me inside his modest apartment.
I admit to some curiosity about what a blind man's house might look like but this wasn’t it. I did not expect to see anything decorative on the walls but Ricky’s were plastered with framed photos and original artwork. Whoever decorated the place had a macabre taste in art because most of the paintings depicted desert landscapes with animal bones. We emerged from the short entry hall into a spacious room. Another, longer hall exited from our left and led to what looked like two bedrooms and a bathroom. A breakfast counter extended into the room ahead and bifurcated the space into a kitchen on the left and a living room in the right. I saw a dining room set perpendicular to us beyond that. Windows in the far back wall and a door showed a view of a back patio. The pantry and laundry room entrance was on the left wall past the kitchen.
Ricky set his keys on a small table by the door. We took off our shoes and entered the living room.
“Welcome to the mausoleum” Ricky chuffed. “My mom stores all of her old bone paintings here thinking I won’t notice. She apparently didn’t stop to consider that other people had eyes and might tell me.”
“It’s excellent work” I tried to be diplomatic but he snorted knowingly.
“Thanks, but it’s morbid as fuck. Would you like something to drink? I have juice, soda, coffee, water, and cerveza.”
“Aren’t you a bit young to have beer?” I teased. He grinned back.
“That was my price for storing Mom’s morbid paintings.”
“Naughty, l like you” I laughed. “I’m driving so coffee, please.”
“Fresh brewed coffee coming right up!” He navigated the space confidently. He put coffee on to brew before opening the door to one of the bedrooms. I heard a ruckus and so followed, curious.
Ricky sat on his knees on the floor petting a black Labrador Retriever, the aforementioned Gwenny. She was obviously a mix with Husky coloring and their distinctive blue eyes. The urban legend about dogs resembling their humans proved true in this case. The resemblance in their eyes was uncanny. Ricky called me over. “Ash, this is my friend, Guenhwyfar or ‘Gwenny’ as we say around the house. Gwenny, this is my friend Asher.”
“Guenhwyfar, like the panther from the Dark Elf novels?” I grinned.
“Yup! She’s a dog, not a black panther, obviously but Gwenny keeps me safe when we’re out in public.” Ricky scratched her ruff much to Gwenny’s panting delight. “Come on, say hello!”
“Hi Gwenny,” I reached slowly with the back of my hand so she could sniff me. She took a whiff, gave me the dirtiest look, then sneezed all over my hand. “What the hell?” I yanked back.
“Guenhwyfar Paltro Reyes,” Ricky scolded her like a child. “You behave or you’re going right back in the kennel.”
She moaned mournfully but did not look the least bit penitent. Ricky shook his head sadly, “I’m sorry, Ash. The bathroom is right behind you to wash your hands.”
I stepped inside the open door to wash while talking to Ricky. “She seems very protective of you.”
“She’s a jealous little brat, that’s what she is. Gah, now I’m covered in dog hair. ‘Scuse me.” Ricky shucked off his black T-shirt and squeezed past me. I shivered as he rubbed a sizable mound against my ass. I did not dwell on it for long as I saw his bare torso in the mirror.
I knew Ricky was muscular but nothing prepared me for the sight before me. I beheld a compact and stacked young titan with heroic shoulders packed with powerful muscle. His biceps were huge and his chest was deep and round, capped by luscious, suckable nipples. His abdominal muscles resembled stacked bricks held in place by a magnificently sculpted Adonis belt. Covering it all was smooth, naturally tan skin. The only hair I spotted sprouted from his armpits and grew in a wispy halo circling his navel, drawing an enticing line that vanished under the waistband of his cargo pants.
Normally, guys this muscular turned me off. They appeared blocky, bloated, grossly unbalanced, and unnatural. They looked like they could barely move for the muscles crowding their frames. In contrast, Ricky struck a figure of masculine perfection. He reminded me of Olympic male gymnasts, built like bulldogs but speedy and agile. I stood in dumbstruck silence with water running through still fingers.
Ricky tossed his shirt in the laundry hamper, shook out his black curls, then took time to tease them back in place as if he could see his reflection. “Are you comfortable if I leave my shirt off? I don’t usually bother around the house.” He waited a few beats. “Ash?”
“Um, no!” I caught myself staring and jumped back to life. I frantically finished washing my hands. I stammered, “no, I don’t mind. It’s your home.”
“Thanks!” He squeezed past me again and I could have sworn on Mama’s bible that his mound was bigger than last time. It took all of my force of will to avoid pushing back against him. –Is he flirting with me? I wondered.
“Where do you want your coffee? The living room is clean but there are bone paintings everywhere. My den is more comfortable but smells like a dog–clean dog but still a dog–or we can stand in the kitchen.”
I pursed my lips with amusement. “We can sit in the living room. I don’t mind bones. I find some very pleasant.”
“Oh, you do?” Ricky broke into a smile.
“Bones keep us erect. We wouldn’t be human without them.” I followed him to the couch in the living room.
“You have a good point.” Ricky curled his lips smartly. It was like we were still role playing only now it was real. My usual awkwardness and stammering vanished. Was that the secret to confidence–just pretend like I was in a game? I blushed to my hairline, sat, and sipped my coffee. I spied something out of the corner of my eye that I missed earlier. A guitar rested against an upright piano in the corner. I gasped, “You play music?”
“I sing too but there isn’t much point to it when I’m here alone. Gwenny howls when I sing and the neighbors complain. Maybe something short?”
“I’d love to hear you sing!” I sat back and waited.
He drew the guitar into his lap and checked the tuning before he plucked a very familiar tune from the movie “Ghost.” I trembled with emotion as he sang with aching sweetness.
“Whoa, my love, my darling
I’ve hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me”
He stopped and rested his hand on his instrument. “More and Gwenny will howl.”
It took time before I could speak past the emotion welling up in me. “That was beautiful, thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he hesitated for a moment before carefully setting the guitar back exactly where he found it. “Ash, there is something and I don’t know how to ask.”
“What is it?” I perked up, curious. He swallowed, visibly uncertain before he pushed it out, haltingly.
“Can I … touch you?” He asked.
I frowned, “I’m sorry?”
“I have loved your voice from the moment we met. I’ve never heard another like it. We talk and I get to know you better but I can’t ‘see’ you. I hear only this incredible voice coming from where you sit. I want to picture you in my mind and the only way I can do that is to touch you.” I considered this and he must have interpreted my silence as unease. “I won’t do anything you find uncomfortable. We can stop at any time.”
I nursed my coffee while thinking about it. “What if what you find is disappointing? Maybe I should stay a mystery.”
He cracked a big smile. “Oh, I ‘see’ what you’re up to. You want to pull cool ninja moves on me. Go silent and you’re completely invisible, I can't even imagine what you look like.”
“What, no!” I laughed.
He kept teasing playfully. “Yeah right, you’re a man of mystery. You’d lead me to walk through a rain puddle or talk from behind a lamp post until I smacked into it.”
I couldn’t help but giggle at that. “God, no, you’re awful! Wait, did that really happen?”
He nodded, chuckling. “I went back to school after the accident, feeling sorry for myself. My old buddies did what I wanted, they treated me like just one of the guys. The point is to get over yourself. I don’t know why you feel the way you do but it ain’t gonna happen! You aren’t going to disappoint me because I have a better mental image of you. What do I care about how tall you are or how skinny? Skin color, weight, none of that matters. Ash, you are a fingerprint on the universe, absolutely unique to my experience. That excites me. I want to know everything about you and my fingers are itching.” He made grabby hands at me and I grinned.
“I can take those words in so many ways, most of them wrong.”
He waggled his eyebrows cleverly. “I know.”
I shifted anxiously before sitting my empty coffee cup on the table. I took a deep breath and nodded. Then I caught my mistake in nodding and said “alright.”
We sat facing each other on the couch. Ricky directed me to touch his upright palms and keep my arms still. He moved with great care, his expression fixed with intense concentration. I sensed a feathery light touch on the pulse points in my wrists. My eyes fluttered closed to focus on it. Ricky rubbed in time with each pulse of my heart. I could not place why but this contact between us felt incredibly intimate. I sensed as heat crept up my neck into my cheeks but I kept going, allowing him to explore.
Ricky caressed my palms, then slid to the tops of my hands to bump across each knuckle. “You have such small hands” his voice assumed a breathy, purring quality that lulled me into a trancelike state.
“Touch me,” his words reached into my hidden desires. I acted on his bidding, caressing him in kind and following his gentle lead. Our hands glided along our forearms, past elbows, up to our shoulders. My fingers trembled on his biceps. I felt them at rest and still they bulged with untamed power.
His shoulders looked massive to the naked eye but that pales in comparison to the hard reality under my palms. I shivered as Ricky’s hands brushed my throat with the attention of a master artist.
“Beautiful,” he ran the pad of his thumb along the pulsing artery in my neck. I swallowed under his hands. If he wanted he could have crushed my windpipe before I had any time to muster a resistance but he moved with only the tenderest care. He treated me like something precious and delicate that might disintegrate at the slightest mistreatment. I slid my hands back along his arms until they hovered over his hands. I encouraged him to continue with a gentle touch.
Big, strong fingers worked the tension from the back of my neck. I uttered a breathy moan in gratitude but Ricky was not done. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs smoothly along my jawline, then across my cheekbones while his fingers threaded through my hair to massage my scalp. I leaned back with a sigh of pleasure. I barely remembered how to talk at this point.
“Feels good,” I purred with relief and leaned into his touch.
He brushed his thumbs across my eyebrows. I sensed as he reached my eyes and closed them, letting him trace my lids and lashes with his fingertips. He moved on to draw his fingers down the bone of my nose and spread his thumbs back along my cheekbones. He lingered at my lips, rubbing them reverently. I shivered at how good it felt. He paused as if considering pushing into my mouth. I took the initiative and clamped his thumb gently between my teeth. He shivered this time and pushed in while I sucked. He swallowed a gulp and pulled back, pushing his splayed fingers back through my hair. “So soft,” he smiled warmly.
I raised my arms with the intention of copying Ricky’s gestures but met his solid ribs first. His raised arms funneled me up the center of his chest and before I knew it I pinched his nipples between the webbing of my fingers. My eyes snapped open as my breath hitched. I opened my mouth to apologize when he leaned into my hands. His lusty growl vibrated deep in my prostate and suddenly things were heating up!
Our foreheads touched, then our noses. I acted on pure instinct and turned my face until our lips touched. Then, out of nowhere, a big hairy body shoved rudely between us.
“Arrroooorroomph!” Gwenny yowled as she licked Ricky’s face. Her human sputtered in complete surprise.
“GWENNY!” He scolded her angrily.
I sat back, flustered and deeply confused. Something in what Ricky and I did awakened something new and intense inside me, something I wanted, something I craved, something I needed. Shame rushed through me with the chill of ice water but why?
Trevor! How could I? I scrambled inside. Why was I upset? Trevor wouldn’t care about what I did with Ricky. Hell, he would have cheered us on and jumped in the middle of the action. I needed time to think. Every second I looked at Ricky I wanted him more.
I jumped up. “I need to go, it’s late.”
“Ash, wait, don’t go!”
“I’m sorry! I need to go!” I rushed out and only once I sat safe and buckled into my seat I remembered.
I left my shoes inside. Also, I volunteered to pick Ricky up tomorrow for our big club night. I bonked my head on the steering wheel and spat out my frustration, “Fuck!”
Ricky was dangerous. I knew that much but I couldn’t stay away.
I didn’t want to.
Besides, I needed my shoes.
To be continued….
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.
