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I am driving over to go have sex with my best friend.

I haven’t stopped freaking out about this since Wednesday night, when he first proposed it to me. Seriously. I skipped all of my classes yesterday because I was too excited. I spent the entire day skipping between jolts of energy and deep, deep hornyness, so much so that I went for an hour-long run just to get all of it out of me. I’ve been thwacking my tail against everything the whole day. When my friends asked me what I was smiling about and I couldn’t come up with an answer, they all teased me about my online hockey boyfriend from Boston and I barked in response. So that’s where I’m at right now.

Of course, it’s the weirdest way anyone’s ever had sex with their crush. Never in a million years did I think Asher would get hyper-fixated on sex, of all things, and then ask me to have sex with him so he could experience the act of sex for himself. It makes me wonder what the hell sex with him is like – I don’t think he’s going to be nervous but I can’t imagine him jumping for joy either. I wonder how big his dick is. I wonder how soft his tummy is. If I crash the car right now they’re gonna see my dead corpse has an erection.

I’m trying not to think about it too hard. It’s just like a hookup or a friends with benefits situation. Half of my friend group is going through this right now. I’m just gonna drive over and we’re gonna have fun and mess around a little and it’s totally normal. I will say I’ve properly dated two guys in my life and had a short relationship with another, but I’ve never had a sex with someone I wasn’t in a relationship with. I hope I don’t fall harder for him than I’ve already fallen.

It’s always a trek to get over here. I’d do it more often if the drive wasn’t an hour and I had more spare time to spend a whole day fishing. Sometimes he sends me the cutest texts asking me if I want to go fishing on a day where I have an essay due and all he can respond with is a sad face. He goes alone and sends me photos of all the fish he catches and I sit there and stare at them instead of doing my work. Now, though, I’m pulling into his driveway.

He steps outside and stands in the doorway, wearing the same outfit I always see him in. Bruins jersey, oversized jeans, socks but no shoes. His bangs are covering his eyes and his hair is over his shoulders. His headphones are always on but he always turns the music off when we’re hanging out. His tail sways back and forth.

“Hey, Asher!”

“Hey, man.” He waits for me to get up the porch and steps inside when I’m up. I track a few autumn leaves inside as I close the door. He’s in the kitchen with an entire salmon on the cutting board – Asher’s nothing but consistent. “Are you hungry?”

“Makin’ lunch?”

“Salmon rolls. I caught it myself.” I love his flat Boston accent on the word caught – he talks all on the same pitch with little variation. “Want some?”

“Sure!”

We catch up for a little bit. He puts the music from his headphones onto the speaker in the kitchen and we listen to his attempt at a chill playlist while we chat about this and that. I think it’s supposed to be autumn vibes but it switches rapidly from electronic music to Japanese city pop to folk chanting. I’ve learned to deal with the variation.

For two guys who are about to have sex, we’re sure not talking about sex. I tell him about my new classes this semester (Morphosyntactic typology, conflict resolution, figure drawing and architecture 101), I tell him about what I picked up at the thrift store with my friends, I tell him about the latest Alberta New Seasons gossip. Asher’s good at listening and I’m sure good at talking. All the while, I watch him butcher the salmon, cut the avocado, and pack it onto the rice. He makes six nicely-sized salmon rolls for both of us, twelve total, and plates them up all nice for us. He even pours soy sauce into a little container for us to share. We grab some takeout chopsticks and bring it over to his room to eat.

I love his room. It’s maximally stacked upwards – posters cover the walls all the way up, he lofted his bed and has a little sitting area underneath, even the bookcase is filled to the brim with stuff that touches the ceiling. A hockey stick and a fishing rod are on the wall above his bed, which is the most Asher thing ever. He climbs up onto his bed and I sit at his desk and we eat our sushi. It’s delicious.

For two guys who are about to have sex, we’re sure not having sex. I don’t mind it – a lot of the time we spend hanging out in person we spend just chilling, existing in the presence of each other. It’s the exact opposite of how we text where we talk for hours. Right now, though, the silence doesn’t feel comfortable. Maybe it is for him, but I’m having a hard time getting the salmon in my mouth because I’m so nervous and so excited. After a couple of minutes of this, I just have to blurt it out.

“So are we gonna…?”

He moves his plate aside. “Have sex? Do you still want to?”

“I do, if you want.”

“Yeah. Are you still hungry?”

“No.”

“I’ll take the plates to the kitchen and when I get back we can start?”

“Sure!”

He takes my plate and he’s off. I sit in his room and vibrate with excitement. Warm autumn light pours through the window.

“So,” I say when he gets back in. “What do you wanna do today?”

“Hm… you’ve seen my list, right?”

“I don’t think we’ll get to everything on it.”

He smiles a little. “Maybe we can just see what happens?”

“Sure… but just so I know what to expect, generally what do you think we’ll do?”

“Kiss… disrobe a little… jerk each other off?” He looks at me. “Your tail is wagging so much.”

“I’m excited!”

“Me too.” He hops off the bed and stands over me. I could cum right fucking now. “Um, is there anything you wanna talk about beforehand?”

“About what?”

“I dunno. Just anything you wanna communicate since we’re doing something really intimate.”

“Oh! Uh…” I love you? “No. Nothin’ much.”

“Yeah, um…” He thinks about it for a second. “I don’t like being naked.”

“No?”

“Like I shower in the dark. I don’t have an issue if I have something on, but something always has to be on.”

“Like as in you don’t want to take anything off, or you only want…?”

“I think right now I’ll ask that we keep my jersey on.”

“Sure. Good luck from the Bruins.” I grin. “ Anything else?”

“Um. You know I’ve never done this before.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. I don’t mind. If you ever want to stop, we can stop, no matter what. Like, don’t feel uncomfortable about it, just tell me.”

“I know.”

I snort. “You know?”

“Sorry, I mean. I do know. Did the research.” He chuckles. “Shall we begin?”

“I think we should.”

“Let’s begin.”

I sit politely in his desk chair, paws tucked in my lap, while Asher stands in front of me. I don’t think he’s trying to make a show out of it, although my erection would beg to differ. He’s tall, man, six foot three or four maybe. He hooks his paws in his belt and undoes it, then holds his pants at the button. He smiles. “You ready?”

“Go ahead.”

He undoes the button and lets them drop. My heart skips a beat. He is wearing the cutest yellow briefs, a nice erection tucked into those. His butt looks amazing. It’s the baggy cargo pants, I guess, but his butt looks so much bigger with the pants off.

“Cute,” I say through my goofy grin. “Super cute.”

His face doesn’t change, even with his pants off. He steps out of them. “Thank you.”

“Are they Bruins brand?”

“Yeah.” He wags his tail a little. “They were selling them.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t like them. Very cute. Very very cute.”

“Can you take your pants off?”

“Yeah, dude!” I go to slip off my shorts, but I stop. “You wanna take them off?”

“Can I?”

“Yes sir.”

He steps forward and slips his paws underneath the waistband of my shorts. I fall back into the chair and let him pull them all the way down. My erection tents so obviously in my boxers. I just smile sheepishly.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

I nod. There is nothing I would like more.

We move up to the bed. I think I’m going to sit up and we’re going to do the classic awkward makeout sitting on the edge of the bed, but he plops himself on me missionary style and kisses my muzzle like nothing. His weight on me makes me all fluttery inside and our dicks press together in the most perfect way, not to mention the fact that we’re kissing. I thwap my tail against the bed in excitement. It’s all racing through my mind – our erections, the feeling of his paws on my shoulder, his hair falling onto me, my wagging tail, being pushed into the bed by him. I have to take a deep breath and focus. I can freak out about this later. Right now, I just have to enjoy it.

We’re instantly trying to jam our tongues into each other’s mouths, less like kissing and more like biting each other. This is his first time kissing anybody at all, I realize. I have to take the lead. As much as I want to be biting him like a dog right now, I pull back and start kissing him respectably. It’s lovely. We lap at each other so softly. His grip on my shoulder tightens. His erection pulses.

I use my free paw to push the hair out of his eyes and smile at him. He pulls away. “You okay?”

“I’m very very happy.”

“Me too.”

I love you, I think very loudly in my head. We keep kissing and it’s the only thing in there. If I’m not freaking out about him on me or about my boner or about how I never want this to end, I’m thinking “I love you.” I love you I love you I love you.