“What’s wrong, Aubrey?” Breanna knows it’s me, but I haven’t said anything for at least thirty seconds after she picks up the phone. The only sound on my end is the jagged inhalations of breath as I try to get my words out.

“D-danny dumped me and he’s … he’s kicking me out,” I sob into the phone.

“What? You’re kidding! I thought you guys were really happy. What happened?”

“I … thought so … too,” I say with a breath in between just about each word. “I mean … we had fights every once in a while. But that’s totally normal … right?” I had spent all morning questioning every decision I’ve ever made to the point where now I feel like I have no conviction whatsoever. I just want to crawl in bed and pretend the world doesn’t exist for the rest of my life.

“Did he say why?”

“Yeah.” I’m actually kind of embarrassed to tell my best friend the reason he gave me. I’ve never said anything to her about my stupid secret and I’m worried what she’ll think. I’m still so confused about my feelings and I’m totally afraid she’s going to think exactly what Danny thought. That I’m a tease. “He said he couldn’t deal with not being able to … to fuck me.”

“Wait, what? You guy’s never had sex? Like, at all?”

There it is, that tone I was dreading.

“Well, we had sex. Just not—“

“In your pussy?”

“Yeah!” I say, gaining back a little big of conviction. “I mean, it’s not like we didn’t do lots of other stuff. I told you some of what we did. I sucked his cock all the freaking time, and I let him fuck me in the ass whenever he wanted.”

“Oh wow, then what the hell was he complaining about?”

“He said he thought I was messing with him—that I was just a tease and that he wanted to find a girl who really understood the meaning of submitting to him.”

“What the hell did he mean by that?”

As relieved as I am that Breanna understands what I mean, this is another thing I don’t particularly want to discuss with her. She knows that I’m kinky. We’ve talked about how we’re both submissive and how interesting it is that our own personal definitions of that word mean different things to each of us. But because I’m feeling so insecure about everything right now, answering this question makes me feel like I have no freaking idea what I’m doing. Like my version of submissive is somehow wrong because Danny said so.

“That if I was really a sub I would do anything he wanted just because he told me to, I guess.”

“What the fuck? He’s a total jackass, Aubrey! That’s not the way it works! You have to have an understanding between the two of you. The scenes aren’t just about what he wants, end of story. That’s messed up!”

“Thank you for saying that, cause I swear to God I’ve felt like the biggest loser on the planet for the last hour. He told me that I’ve never been the kind of submissive he wanted, that I probably wasn’t even a sub at all, and that seriously killed me, Brea.”

“Wow, Aubrey, that’s harsh. What did he even mean?”

“I don’t know. I asked him to give me examples and he wouldn’t. He said I would know how to be a true submissive if I really was one.”

“Oh my God, Aubrey, that’s horrible. He’s a complete asshole. He is so not worth crying over.”

“I know, Brea, it just hurts. I thought he loved me. I really thought he understood me. And now I find out that all this time he’s been thinking the exact opposite—that everything I am is wrong. It makes me feel like I’ll never know if someone is being honest with me ever again.”

“God, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. But you have to know that he’s just one guy. Well, one type of guy. There’s plenty of guys like him out there, unfortunately. But there are other types out there, and I swear you’ll find one of the good ones.”

“I don’t know, Brea. I mean, most guys actually do want to fuck a girl’s pussy. Especially kinky guys.”

“Not necessarily. There are plenty of people who do BDSM scenes that don’t even involve intercourse at all.”

“Really? What do they do?”

“Whatever they’re into. They make the arrangements beforehand. If both people are into rope work, and that’s all they both want, then the sub is tied up. If it’s pain, then the sub is spanked or paddled or whipped or whatever. If they both want the experience of the sub being tied up and having pain inflicted on them, and they both want something sexual to go on, then they do all of it in the same scene. But it’s an agreement, not a surprise. And no one’s desire is more important than anyone else’s. Unless that’s the agreement.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But isn’t it different in a relationship. I mean, I think guys expect that their girlfriend is going to want to fuck them.”

“Well, yeah, probably. But if he really loves you he’ll talk to you about it—ask you why and figure out things that work for both of you. Did he ever do that?”

“Not really. But if he asked me why I’m not sure if I’d know exactly what to tell him.”

“How come?”

“Well, it was mostly a feeling I had.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just didn’t seem like he would have been a very good … you know … lover. I told you that I sucked his cock all the time. Well, he hardly ever went down on me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. He would tell me to masturbate, which I liked to do, especially when he was deep throating me, but it wasn’t all I wanted. I tried to tell him how I felt but he would always say that he was tired and that he would go down on me next time.”

“Oh my God, that is so lame. How freaking old is he?”

“Yeah, exactly. He’s twenty-two.”

“That’s more than old enough to know how lame that is, Aubrey.”

“I know! I seriously feel like, in the back of my head, I’ve been saying ‘hell no’ to giving my virginity away to Danny mostly because of how immature he is.”

“No shit. I’d be saying that too. I can’t believe you never told me any of this.”

“I’ve been so messed up about it. There was a part of me that thought there was something really wrong with me. But for the last year I’ve been feeling like what I really want is an older man. Someone who knows what the hell he’s doing, in bed and with his life.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. I’ve been pretty much waiting for a man like that to come along myself.”

“I mean, I swear to God, Brea, if I found a really manly, serious, responsible, sexy, adult man, I would do anything he wanted. I feel like I would be the ultimate submissive. Not 24/7 or anything like that, but, oh my God, Brea. I seriously fantasize about doing anything a guy like that wanted.”

“Damn. Anything?”

“It’s pretty much my dream. But now I’m scared that it’s just something that’s in my head and not really who I am. I’m afraid that Danny is right about me.”

“Don’t even think that. He doesn’t know you better than you know yourself.”

“I know you’re right. I just want a chance to prove it to myself. What I really want is to feel like I have no choice in anything—that no matter what a man asks me to do, I’ll do it. But it’s the feeling of having no choice that I want. I want someone to make me believe that I don’t have any say in the matter even though I know I do. Like I’m giving myself to someone completely and trusting my entire being with them. I’m there for them and they can use me and take care of me like I belong to them, and in return I’ll do anything for they want. Gladly. You know what I mean?” I feel like I’m bearing my soul to Brea, and while it’s uncomfortable, it feels like a huge weight is being lifted off me.

“God that sounds so hot. Do guys like that even exist? Guys that can actually make you feel that way?”

“I hope so. At least it’s what I’ve always fantasized about.” But as the words come out of my mouth I don’t feel so sure about it. I’m still in the whole mindset Danny put me in and from this place everything feels hard and impossible.

I don’t even know how I’d find someone with my exact same interests. Someone who has the vibe I’m looking for and who wants the same things as I do. I usually only get that sort of feeling when I look into the eyes of older men, and even then, definitely not in all of them.

There was actually only one man who ever made me forget everything around me. When I looked into his eyes, I swear to God I would have done anything he asked me to, no matter what it was. Right there and then, in my dad’s office, I would have crawled across the floor if that man had asked me. For years I’ve fantasized of him telling me what to do, and I’ve had orgasm after orgasm to the sound of his deep voice in my ear while I imagined him watching me. But that was a long time ago and I’m afraid there are no other men like that on the planet.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“Huh?” I ask, snapping out of my memory of the deepest, darkest eyes I’ve ever seen up to that point in my life, or since.

“For a place to live.”

“Oh, that. Well, how would you feel about having a couch guest for a little while?”

“My couch is your couch.”

“That’s awesome, cause I don’t have any money for my own place right now and I don’t have anywhere else to go. I just paid my half of the rent here last week.”

“Oh my God, you should get your money back from him. What an asshole!”

“No, I don’t want to mess with that. I’m just gonna pack up the few things I have around here and get out. I just want a clean break. No drama.”

“Okay, well, if you need any help, let me know.”

“I should be fine. It’s just my clothes and my laptop. You gonna be around this afternoon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here all day. This is gonna be fun, girl! We can have a pajama party!”

“Be sure to have some alcohol ready, cause I’m gonna need a big drink when I get there.”