On an Impulse

"He didn't ever tell you that you were the sexiest thing alive?" Ultan rested his head on her chest while she held his shoulder close.

"I think he thought he was being fair," she replied after reflecting for a moment. "But when you're repeatedly told you should work out more, but not repeatedly told that you're beautiful, it chips away at you after some time."

"You work out all the time when you drum." Ultan's fingers now traveled to her bare breast and absentmindedly circled her areola. "You're athletic. If that's not enough for—" Samaira stopped his hand from moving any further.

"You're going to have to decide whether you want to talk with me or make love to me," she squirmed under his touch.

"We can't do both?" he asked, cupping her breast and sucking on it again. He was satisfied when he heard her sharply gasp. "Because what I just heard you tell me," he continued after yanking her other bra strap down and massaging both nipples, "is that we can have sex an infinite numbers of times without having to leave the house."

"Infinite?" Samaira grinned. "I'll bet you can go twice, tops, before switching back to MASH." She unhooked her bra and reveled in the rush of Ultan's bare chest rubbing against hers as he kissed her again. It was almost as good as the feel of his erection pressed against her thigh.

She nestled her fingers in his hair again while he dropped kisses between her breasts and then down her stomach.

"Why are you so critical of yourself when I can see your upper abs?" he asked, kneeling to undo her jean shorts. "Here, feel this flab right here," he put her hand on his lower abdomen and jiggled the slight, single roll there, making her erupt in laughter.

"You're crazy," she said.

No, just autistic, he silently corrected her while kissing her fingers. Ironic that I'm telling you you're perfect just the way you are when I'm never going to believe that about myself. Ultan pushed the thought back into the recesses of his head while pulling off Samaira's shorts and panties. As she lay spread out before him, his mind was blank for once while he took in her swaths of deep oak skin.

"You can't just stare at me but not say or do anything," she said as her hands crept up against her body.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head in an attempt to switch his brain back on. "I may only think this because it's early on, but I can't find any fault with you."

Following a moment of surprise, Samaira smiled and sat up, then hooked her fingers into Ultan's shorts and dragged them south. Snug between her knees and fully nude now, he lay on top of her and kissed her, the rumble of the distant thunder outside being the only sound they could hear from the darkened house.

Ultan tore his mouth away from hers just as the rain being pattering harder against the patio door. He wasn't done with her nipples, and by the way she whimpered while holding his head against her chest, she didn't want him to be done any time soon. He sucked at them until they were slick and taut, pleased when he heard Samaira softly cooing with her hair tossed to one side.

Going back to her lips, Ultan resolved to do this slowly. He tenderly kissed her as his fingers snaked their way down the satiny skin of her torso, and then dipped between her damp thighs. Samaira moaned against his mouth, then steeply drew in her breath when he pressed two fingers inside her.

"Still okay?" he whispered. When she nodded emphatically, he gave her a roguish grin and bent back over her chest, now sucking harder. Samaira mewed, then outright arched her back when he found the ridges he was searching for. She flailed beneath him, overwhelmed with the sensations flooding her body when finally, she couldn't do anything else except grip the pillow under her head and scream.

Ultan's fingers gradually slowed down but didn't stop, driving her through her orgasm until she lazily placed her hands on his hips. He thought he was going to lose it when she wrapped one impossibly long leg across his back, then guided him into her depths.

"You're perfect, Samaira," he huffed, tangling his fingers in her hair. "Anyone who says otherwise is—" Suddenly, his breath stopped as his cock was overrun with pleasure. "What... what did you just do?" he panted. Samaira gazed up at him with those huge hazel eyes. Then, he felt the vise-like squeeze again.

"Fuuuuck," he swore, trying desperately to catch his breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to curse when you... almost made me faint."

"No, I like this side of you, Ultan," Samaira whispered. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" He shook his head no, acutely aware of his forearms trembling as she wrapped her other leg around his waist and gripped his cock with her inner muscles a third time. "But you can't expect to rub the most sensitive part of a woman and not experience any repercussions afterward."

"Repercussions," he gruffly exhaled. "It's funny because you're a drummer and—oh, Jesus fucking Christ, whaddya doing to me?" Samaira smiled as her muscles loosened around him, then clutched his cock again. "I won't last if you keep this up, Samaira."

"Good," she drawled in his ear. "I don't want you to last. I want you to fuck me hard enough for this fort to fall apart."

Ultan groaned and lost control, forgetting how only moments prior he'd promised himself he'd make their first time last as long as possible. On an impulse, he let his hips speed up and buried his face in the supple skin of Samaira's neck, reveling in the thrilled little squeal she let out.

Her grasping his shoulder blades only spurred him on until her body lurched and she climaxed again, whimpering his name against his neck. Ultan let himself explode inside her, his cheek against hers and his blood pounding in his ears. He didn't ever want to move.

"It didn't work," he finally whispered, his lips on her temple. Samaira furrowed her brow in confusion. The emotional intimacy Ultan had shown her just now only added to the intensity of every sensation that was coursing through her nerves. She was now sure she was in love with him.

"The fort is still standing," he continued, gently slumping to rest his body on hers. "I guess I just build them too well." Samaira smiled while holding him close, then squeezed his still-hard cock tightly inside her. He grunted and firmly smacked his pillow, then gripped her upper arms.

"I'm gonna die if you keep doing that," he slurred. "But don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining."

He lay on her for a while longer, nuzzling her face until he absolutely needed to clean up. But when they were both back in the fort a few minutes later, Samaira motioned for him to get on top of her like before.

"You feel like a weighted blanket," she said as she held his head on her chest and played with his brown spikes. It lightly drizzled outside but it was still dark for a summer afternoon. "Would you mind if I tried to scare you away again?" she asked.

"Do your worst," Ultan mumbled, preoccupied with the softness of the skin on her ribcage.

"Part of why Jo and I became friends is because we share similar social views as women of colour. We got into a discussion once about how we both think all drugs should be legalized, and hit it off after that."

"Makes sense," Ultan said, still stroking her side. "Seeing as how most people in jail for simple possession are Black or brown."

"What do you think about the debate over defunding police?" Samaira asked. She hated this bizarre manner of testing him, but she didn't want to be disappointed if they disagreed on their values after she was deeper in love with him.

"It's unreasonable to expect police to do a bunch of things they're not trained for," Ultan said. "And it's also unreasonable to give them a big-ass budget when they're never going to be trained for dealing with... autistic people, for example.

"There have been so many disabled people who've been killed for having a sensory overload, when they could have been helped by someone who understood them. So yeah, people shouldn't think of it as defunding the police; it's more like redistributing that money for better social services all around."

This isn't going to work, Samaira realised. He's not going to say something that will turn me off. She suddenly felt enthralled and deathly afraid at the same time, especially since she'd had no plans to enter into another relationship as of that morning, let alone end up naked in a blanket fort with the guy she'd only been curious about for weeks.

After having sandwiches for dinner in the fort a few hours later, Samaira was taken aback when Ultan asked her to stay the night.

"I'm not putting you off, am I?" he followed up. "I mean, is it too—"

"Ultan, I would love to wake up beside you tomorrow," Samaira stroked his back, "but it's not the example I want to set for Aalia when she's waiting for me at home." She paused. "But who knows what'll happen when I drop her off at her dorm in another month?"

The uneasiness of feeling simultaneously thrilled and scared nagged at Samaira right into Monday morning, when she hoped Jo would be too preoccupied with being a newlywed to remember to ask about her weekend. That hope was dashed when she walked into the office to Jo's wide grin.

"I've had puppies greet me with less enthusiasm," Samaira said flatly while stashing her bag under her desk.

"Tell me everything," Jo demanded, clearly disinterested with the small talk. Her smile faded, however, when she noticed Samaira's pensiveness. "Oh, you guys didn't click. Huh. I'm usually spot-on with these things."

"And you were this time as well," Samaira switched on her computer, then gathered the faxes that had come in since Friday night. "I even broke my no-sex-until-three-months-in rule."

"You guys what?" Jo's mouth fell open. "I mean, yes, good," she stammered. "So what's with the face?"

"There's something about him that I can't quite place," Samaira tried to explain, knowing she was botching it. "He's different somehow...? But not different in a bad way, just... quirky, I think." Jo was quiet for a moment while searching for the right words. Knowing how sensitive Ultan was about his autism, she realised he hadn't told Samaira a thing. And she wasn't about to out him.

"I think what I'm more afraid of is opening up to someone again," Samaira continued, saving Jo the trouble of responding. "And this isn't about him at all. I was so, so impressed with how he seemed to understand my experiences as a brown woman. Did you find that with Felix, Jo?" Now this was something Jo could answer without hesitation.

"No. I almost split up with Felix because his stepmom was always on my case, and she tried to make it about everything in the world except for me being Black." Samaira stopped, only jolting out of her surprise when the fax machine started up again.

"You're not kidding."

"No, I'm not," Jo paused to answer an incoming call, then another. She resumed explaining at the next brief lull in activity. "Felix didn't understand that racism isn't just burning a cross on a lawn, it's setting the rungs on the ladder for us eight feet apart, when for them it's only one foot apart. And then saying we're making too much of things because at least we were given a ladder."

"Well put," Samaira nodded. "But Ultan got it instantly. I was so surprised, but then he told me about how his family—"

"Literally burned shit down?" Jo laughed. "Yeah, if any white people understand discrimination that changes you for generations, it's the Irish." She took a call, transferred it, then put the phone back down. "So what was the sex like?"

"We are not discussing that," Samaira laughed. "I'm happy, Jo, and I can't wait to see him again..."

"But you're afraid this will tank for some reason?" Jo shook her head. "Samaira, listen. You always think about what will happen if this doesn't work out. But nothing you've told me so far is pointing to that right now. What would happen if this does work out?"

***********

Samaira woke up to Ultan's tawny-beige fingers covering her sepia arm, as his breath fell on the nape of her neck and his bare chest pressed against her back. The late-October wind whistled against her bedroom window frame and she instinctively drew the comforter over both of them while trying to pry her eyes open.

Over the last three months together, he'd been showing up at almost every Redundant Contraption show west of Toronto, if only to help her dismantle her drum set afterwards. She'd finally convinced him to show her his camera roll, which included such vivid photos of her and the band that Liem and the others insisted they go on the band's website.

"I would complain that most of these are of Samaira," Liem told Ultan after a show while peering at the shots, "but she's actually the best-looking of all of us so I don't fault your judgment."

This weekend was a rare one where the band wasn't booked at all. Ultan had just finished marking and returning midterm papers the week before, and had wanted nothing more than to spend the weekend lazing around with her.

Not exactly lazing, Samaira smiled to herself while thinking about how they'd made out while watching TV the night before. It wasn't planned but somehow she'd ended up seated on his lap on the couch, both of them facing the same direction, naked from the waist-down with her bouncing against his thighs.

Initially, she'd thought the best part about that was when Ultan shifted to put her legs together with his on the outside, making the friction mind-blowing.

But the best part about it was actually that she had completely forgotten to worry about her body when Ultan had thrust his hands up her shirt while they'd explored each others' mouths. All she wanted was her clothes on the floor and him inside her. The width of her hips or her cellulite hadn't even crossed her mind until they'd both collapsed in exhaustion on her living room carpet.

"That was the best view," he'd panted, reaching to hold her.

"My... ass?" His hands on her breasts had forced her to stay in the moment instead of being self-conscious.

"Oss," Ultan giggled. "I'm never going to get over how classy that sounds."

She shifted in bed just enough to not wake him, but forgot about his morning wood.

"Oops," she whispered just as Ultan's eyes flew open. "Sorry, I didn't mean to brush against—"

"Just keep doing it and I'll forgive you," Ultan mumbled as he closed his eyes again, then grabbed her wrist and put her hand on his cock while she laughed.

"As much I love this, Ultan, I'm wondering why you never want to go out." Samaira turned around and kissed his shoulder before snuggling into him.

"I'm a hermit," he replied, his eyes still closed, but his arms tightening around her.

"I'm serious. What about your friends? Sure, we went out with Felix and Jo that one time, but isn't there anyone else in your life you want to introduce me to?"

"We're doing Halloween with my sister's kids next week," Ultan offered, not liking where this conversation was going but trying to stay calm first thing in the morning.

"Of course. But there's no one else you hang out with regularly?"

Ultan grimaced. No, there wasn't. And he liked it that way. Since meeting Samaira, he'd gone out more often than he had in the preceding three years.

"Uhhh, sure," he lied. "I'll get a few of them together and we'll do something in a couple of weeks."

The conversation sounded ridiculous when he reiterated it to Felix and Jo a few days later when she came by the university's art department to pick up her husband from work.

"So who do you think I can scrounge up other than you guys?" Ultan asked, oblivious to the worried look the couple exchanged.

"Ultan, you need to tell Samaira you're autistic," Jo said, refusing to mince words. "Moreover, you need to tell her you're an introvert, you like staying in, and you like having two or three close friends and that's it. She won't dump you over this. You don't have to change who you are. She's already in love with you."

"Or she could get bored of staying in all the time and eventually fall out of love with me," Ultan replied, his voice more strained than he intended. "Guys, all I have is one question—who can I introduce her to as my friends? Hey, what about Sean? You're close with his wife, Tiffany, aren't you, Jo?"

Felix looked like he'd swallowed a toad at the mere mention of those names.

"What about Doug and Jess? Think we could meet them for dinner or something?" Ultan continued. Felix couldn't hold himself back this time.

"It's just gonna have to be you, Ult," he said. "I'm not meeting those assholes for anything." He'd anticipated the look he knew Jo would shoot him. "Baby, don't. I know you're friends with Tiffany and Jess, but they're vapid airheads. I hate it that Doug also works here, albeit across campus.

"And Ultan, you're not friends with them. Not really. You're acquaintances at best. You hung out with Doug a few times at faculty events, and Sean most recently at our wedding." He looked over at a still-scowling Jo. "Look, maybe I jumped the gun at calling them assholes. They're fine, but they're not people you can hold close.

"Not even you, baby," he said to his wife. "Your relationship with those women hasn't progressed beyond college. All you talk about is reality TV. Ask them whether they think homeless encampments should be taken down and then you'll catch a glimpse of who they are today."

None of this was helpful to Ultan. On an impulse, he reached for his phone as his friends were too engrossed in their argument to realise he was sending a text to Doug. His goal was single-pointed, and the logic made sense in his mind—Samaira asked to meet more people in his life, and he would produce them.

***********

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Samaira said, gripping Ultan's hand as they walked toward The Mammoth, a renovated Victorian home that had long been one of downtown Guelph's coziest pubs. She was nervous but excited. "Are we actually a couple now? It's official when I'm meeting your friends, isn't it?"

"It sure is," Ultan smiled. "Don't worry, they're all as cool as Jo and Felix."

It actually felt as though they were entering someone's house as they went up the steps, but several tables sprawled across the inside proved the place was much bigger than it seemed. The frigid early-November gusts outside gave way to the blissful aroma of food as soon as they entered.

Samaira spotted a small group raising their hands toward them at the same time as Ultan did, and he guided her through to the back.

"So this is her," a bulky man with flaming red hair and a matching beard said. "How did a guy who barely talks land someone who looks like you?"

"Easy, Doug," Ultan said, hanging up Samaira's jacket beside his on the hooks behind their booth. "Your wife's right there. Hey, Jess." A brown-haired woman with a pixie cut and heavy eye makeup smiled at her and Samaira felt a little more at ease. Seated beside her was Tiffany—who Samaira had suspected didn't like her back at the wedding—and her husband Sean.

"So we know our boy here is happy, but he didn't tell us anything else about you," Sean addressed Samaira after their food had been served. "He didn't get around to asking you to dance at Jo's wedding, did he?"

"He didn't," Samaira answered, "But that is where we met. I think I may have seen you there."

"We wouldn't forget you," Jess said. "The 'Badass Bridesmaid' video your daughter took of you went viral."

"I think that's likely how I'll always be known, yes," Samaira smiled as Ultan winked at her.

"Can we call you Sam?" Tiffany asked.

"Uhhhh..." Samaira was unready for that familiar but irritating question that had plagued her childhood. She wished native English speakers would just learn to pronounce her name the way they learned to pronounce Daenerys Targaryen.