Right as I get into bed, there is a knock.
That must be Misbah. He’s knocking. This means we’ll have that discussion now.
Misbah and I had the discussion about conceiving a child during our evening meal yesterday.
I walked out in irritation and thankfully, he did not come after me.
Since then, as if by mutual agreement, neither of us has brought up the subject.
At first, I had not wanted to go for the workout session last night, because I was scared it would worsen my body ache. But, also, I was afraid he’d bring up the subject. Later, I convinced myself to go. I was tense at first, but M carried on without mentioning it.
The same thing happened throughout today.
We had breakfast, lunch and dinner together. We also had the workout session. Again, there was no mention of the subject. I began to wonder when he’d bring it up again, or if he’d bring it up at all.
Hearing another knock, I push away the coverlet and don my hair bonnet. I open the door and find myself amused when I see Misbah holding two steaming mugs on a tray. ‘This is your M.O. now? Knock and bring me a hot beverage to keep me happy with you?’ I shake my head. ‘Not to sound ungrateful, but I’ve already brushed my teeth.’
‘Then I’ll just drink both, won’t I?’ Misbah gives a disarming grin.
Smiling back at him, I open the door wide to let him in. ‘I suppose you’re here to continue that discussion.’
With a non-committal grunt, he puts the tray on the nightstand. Sitting on the bed, he picks up one mug and takes a sip.
Unable to resist any longer, I grab the second mug and sit beside M. I inhale deeply of the chocolate-y scent, sip, and let off a loud sigh that sounds embarrassingly like a moan.
As usual, Misbah smirks.
As usual, I ignore it.
The chocolate makes up for any poor behaviour on his part.
We sit for a while in relative silence, enjoying the beverage. It feels rather peaceful, pleasant.
When I put down my empty cup, M follows suit. The move draws my attention to M’s arm.
The sleeves of his shirt are folded up to the elbow showing his strong forearms. They make M look manly, very attractive.
I know he is attractive, but that does not mean I want to go to bed with him. For God’s sake!
‘So, Misbah, the bribe has been received. You may say your piece.’
He chuckles. ‘It’s hardly a bribe. I’m just hoping you’ve had time to think about what we discussed. Maybe consider-’
‘Consider incest? No.’ Casually, I adjust and lean my back against the headboard, prepared for another bout of discussion.
‘For the thousandth time, Ree,’ Misbah counters in an endlessly patient tone, ‘it is not incest. We are not related in the least bit.’
‘That may be, but there is a reason we only remained friends all these years. It isn’t meant to be between us.’
‘Okay, I give you that. But maybe that has been because of our mindset? I am sure if you could just try to start thinking differently, then-’
‘It also won’t work because we are incompatible. You’ve got bad habits.’ I fold my arms across my chest.
‘Oh, and you don’t? By the way, I have transferred your dinner leftovers into a tupperware. You’re welcome.’
I scoff, ‘as if I care. But, if you like, that proves my point. We are incompatible. How am I supposed to find you sexy when I have heard you fart before?’ I can’t stop the smirk from coming to my face and staying there.
‘So?’ Misbah jerks a shoulder, unconcerned. ‘We all fart. At least I don’t snore.’
‘Who snores?’
‘You, Reana, you snore, and it is not cute.’
Shocked, no sound leaves my mouth.
‘Okay,’ Misbah amends. ‘It is a little cute.’
‘No one has ever told me I snore.’ I return in an indignant tone.
‘I am telling you, and that’s what counts. Now, if we have counted all the reasons this may not work, let me tell you some of the reasons it could work.’
I roll my eyes.
‘If you aren’t careful, one of these days, I might mistakenly puncture your rolling eyeballs. Now, as I was saying …’ Misbah waits for my laughter to stop. ‘We have known each other, bad habits and all, for a long time. We love each other despite the intimate knowledge of each other’s negatives. We are both loyal, non-abusive-’
‘Debatable. You like threatening me.’
A smile, quickly suppressed, appears on Misbah’s face. ‘- and generous. Falling in love won’t be hard for us. In fact, maybe we already are in love but don’t know it.’
‘Oh, please. I think I would know if I were in love.’
M shrugs. ‘In any case, sex is not going to be a problem. You already said I don’t repulse you, and I think you’re very attractive.’
‘Hm.’ I clear my throat. ‘What if I still don’t want your method, are we going to keep having this argument until I am forced to agree with you?’
For a long moment, Misbah stares at me with narrowed eyes. ‘Are you saying no because you don’t ever want to get into bed with me-?’
‘Yes!’
‘-or are you saying no,’ Misbah goes on as if I haven’t spoken, ‘because you are afraid of sex?’
Tensing inwardly, I try to remain calm outwardly. ‘Afraid? Don’t be silly. What does my reason have to do with anything, anyway?’
‘Tell me the truth, Ree, and we’ll see. If you really don’t have a problem with sex, but you just never want to be with me, then we’ll do things your way.’
‘My way?’ I ask, surprised.
‘Yes, Reana, I promise. We’ll adopt a child together, you’ll never hear me talk about getting married or having a biological child or … anything else. We can raise the child together. When I meet someone else and get married, or you meet someone else and get married, we can find a way to co-parent. This is what you want in summary, isn’t it?’ He peers at me closely.
‘Yes, it is,’ I give a firm nod. ‘I guess you have been paying attention.’
Misbah smiles, ‘I always pay attention to you, Reana. So, tell me, which is it?’
Oh.
I clear my throat. ‘The first option, like I said. I don’t want to sleep with you. Now, can we move on?’
Misbah gives a sober headshake. ‘No.’
Why do I feel relieved?
‘No?’
‘You just did that thing with your eyes. You’re lying to me. Why are you afraid of sex?’
‘That’s absurd, Misbah.’
He gives a sardonic smile. ‘Is it? You can’t even say the word.’
‘I can, too.’
‘Then say it.’ He challenges.
The word sticks in my throat. ‘I don’t need to prove it to you. That’s childish.’ I turn my head away for a bit.
Misbah adjusts till he’s right next to me. He sits there saying nothing.
‘Look, it’s not a big deal. I just am not very good at it, okay?’ I hear a sound beside me and send Misbah a quick glance.
His mouth is open. ‘Which idiot told you that?’
I glance down and pick at the sheet. ‘No one had to tell me.’
Misbah gives my head a gentle stroke, making me look up. ‘You can’t not be good at it, Ree.’
I give him a doubtful look.
Misbah smiles. ‘You don’t believe me. Tell me about it.’
I release a sigh. ‘This is why I have that dating thing that you talked about.’
‘Where you date men you don’t really like?’
‘It’s not that I don’t like them … exactly. It’s that I already know I have this thing. Why look for someone ideal when I know it will have to end anyway?’
‘What is the thing?’
‘It’s just - I just – I don’t think I’m supposed to be … doing it. Men don’t interest me in that way. I mean, it’s all fine when I imagine stuff by myself, but once a man enters the picture, I just … it … fizzles.’
‘That’s it?’
I release a frustrated sound. ‘Misbah, you’re talking as if that is a small thing. If I’m not into it, how will you get me to participate enough to make a baby?’ I hesitate and then sigh. ‘I should probably also tell you that I haven’t done it before, for this same reason.’
Misbah nods, looking unsurprised. ‘I already knew you weren’t doing it with your boyfriends, anyway. That’s not a problem.’
‘Oh.’
What?
‘Wait, how did you know that?’
Misbah chuckles, ‘please. So let me get this straight. You don’t get aroused with one or two men and so you convince yourself you’re bad at sex. Then you prove this to yourself by dating men whom you know you don’t find sexually attractive. Is that the summary?’
Um ...
‘When you say it like that …’ Remembering the main issue, I shake my head to stop from getting distracted. ‘How did you know, Misbah?’
‘I say it like that to show you what you’ve been doing. You are not bad at sex, Ree.’
‘Have you been stalking me?’
Misbah bursts out laughing. ‘Certainly not, Reana. Why would I?’
‘Then, how did you know?’
‘How did I know about your sexual history?’ He grins, ‘I told you I always pay attention.’
I narrow my eyes at him, but Misbah only laughs louder.
‘Listen, when people are intimate, I can tell just by seeing them together. Most people think they can hide it, but that’s a mistake. The only way to hide it from me is if both of you never appear together in public. I’ve seen you with all your boyfriends. Put two and two together.’
‘Oh. That’s a bit dubious but at least, I know you haven’t done it either.’
‘Yes, because I told you.’
‘Whatever. So, how do you know you aren’t bad at … it?’
M chuckles, ‘please. For now, I propose we test my theory. Let’s do an experiment, shall we?’
I shoot Misbah a look.
He gives a headshake. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Shifting, Misbah kneels on the bed over me so that his legs are straddling mine. He places his palms beside my face on the edge of the carved bed frame, effectively caging me in. His eyes hold mine and he leans in close to my face. Close.
I stay silent, curious about what Misbah is about to do. I barely feel any trepidation, because I trust him completely.
With his eyes fixed on mine, Misbah speaks in a low voice. ‘Ree, I want you to breathe, relax, and listen to me very carefully. I am going to tell you what I want to do to you, but you are in charge. You can tell me to stop at anytime, and I will. Nod if you understand.’ His voice sounds deeper than I’ve ever heard it.
I nod, feeling a bit warm. I did not know Misbah’s eyes could be this alluring, that his voice could be this enchanting.
‘Listen to me. Think only of me and what I tell you.’
I nod.
‘I want you to imagine us in bed. Both of us are in your bed in this very room. You are flat on your back. Can you see me lying over you?’
I nod.
‘Can you feel the warmth from my body?’
With another nod, I force myself to smile as proof that I am not affected by M’s words.
He smiles in return, droning on in his deep, unsettling voice. ‘Our clothes are off. My hard, nude body slides up against your soft skin. I stare deeply into your beautiful, brown eyes as I am doing now. Then I stretch your tied hands above your head so that you can’t move them. You struggle to release your hands but you don’t really want them freed, do you?’
Huh?
It feels like M has moved closer. My clothes feel tighter than before. The air conditioner must be spoilt, because this place feels hotter than it was earlier. Maybe they seized the light. The warmth is spreading from my head, to my chest, lower. Why can’t I breathe right?
‘I drop light kisses on your chin and on your earlobes, and you feel it down, down between your thighs. I know this because your crotch lifts towards me. At the same time, you lift your chin and I bite your neck because I can’t help myself.’ His gaze moves lower.
My chin lifts, and I feel a liquid pull in my pelvis. Catching myself, I lower my chin when Misbah’s gaze returns to mine.
His eyes look bigger, darker … scary.
My head and heart are pounding in tandem. I feel out of control. I think I like it.
He continues in his whisper. ‘Your body feels familiar, as if I’ve touched you a thousand times before. Slowly, I kiss you all over. You have the softest, warmest skin. Your breasts are so sexy and your nipples are the most beautiful things ever. They are so sensitive and they turn me on like nothing else. You know what else turns me on?’ He waits.
With a swallow, I shake my head.
‘That slight sound that leaves your throat. It lets me know how turned on you are even though you try hard to hide it.’
A weak sound escapes my mouth. My eyes widen in surprise as I recall suddenly that this is all an experiment.
Is this some sort of hypnosis? Is he controlling me with his words?
Misbah does not make the joke I expect from him. He looks sober. His gaze has a longing quality to it. His breathing sounds heavier. Maybe he’s as shocked as I am.
I don’t know what to say or do so I shut my eyes tight and wait.
‘You’re fine, Ree. You’re perfect.’ M’s close whisper turns the rest of my insides out.
It takes everything in me to stop myself from groaning out loud. I want to scream, to beg M to carry on with this weird experiment that makes me feel alive. But if I do this, it would be really embarrassing. Keeping my eyes and mouth shut, I try to bring my breathing back under control.
After a moment, M’s weight lifts away from the bed.
I hear the door open and shut.
A long while passes before I open my eyes. The discomfort between my thighs is still very present. The heat is still there, overwhelmingly so. Perhaps it is time for another shower.
By the time I finish my shower and return to the room, I see things from a clearer perspective.
Misbah’s experiment worked too well, but it worked. It proved him right.
It also proves to me that I am not as broken as I thought.
How come I responded to Misbah like that, though? I’ve never felt that way before.
Maybe I should call him to do the experiment again.
Putting away the wet towel, I pick up a nightshirt and slip it on; I can’t deal with pajama trousers tonight. After brushing my teeth once again, I push the empty mugs away from the edge of the nightstand and straighten the sheets before lying down.
Every motion is made with care not to create any friction between my thighs. I pull the coverlet over myself, adjust the lower part till it straightens and after saying a prayer or two, I dream.
Of Misbah coming to my bed, touching me; of him licking me all over; of more. In the dream, I respond boldly, kissing and caressing him freely in return. The intense feeling builds and builds, until, at once, something causes me to wake.
With some confusion and a little anger, I realise that the alarm clock is ringing. I groan to myself. Along with the anger, comes a deep frustration and an insistent throbbing I can’t do anything about.
For the next few minutes, I remain in bed. Trying to settle myself, I assess how I feel about having a wet dream featuring my best friend. Of course, my best friend happens to be a man: a very sexy man.
Oh God, I just thought of M as sexy.
Does this mean that a part of me wants him? Or did he do something to my mind last night?
In the privacy of my mind; in the privacy of my bedroom; riding on the high of the dream, I can admit to myself that I don’t really mind wanting him.
Not that I’ll let M know this, of course. It may feel good, but I still think it is inappropriate.