Yaten found a lot of Terran phrases laughable, but the one that always made his sides ache and tears prick at his eyes was the phrase "safe sex." It was utterly ridiculous. It was insanity. It was so utterly that Yaten often felt that he was laughing himself sick.
Safe sex. The very idea. There was no such thing as safe sex.
Sex, Yaten thought, was the most dangerous thing two people could do together, bar none. Russian roulette, dueling, sharing needles, snorting cocaine, all of it simply had to be safer than sex. Not that he indulged or knew for certain, but Yaten was often secure enough in his opinions that not even scientific evidence to the contrary would persuade him otherwise.
He simply had to be right! It was a danger the vocal cords alone, let alone the rest of the body. First of all, the way the blood in his body all but leapt away from his head during it was alarming. It couldnít be healthy to deprive brain like that. Sometimes, when he still had the ability to think clearly, he would wonder if he was actually giving himself brain damage by having sex, but by the time he thought to panic about it, everything was sort of a multicolored fog and he forgot about that concern altogether.
There was also the fact that he always felt like his lungs werenít getting nearly enough oxygen during it. How could people with respiratory diseases even think about sex? Surely it would kill them, because he certainly felt fairly close to keeling over at the rate his lungs were working. And he couldnít forget about the heart, which he sometimes saw as holding a picket sign threatening to leap out of his chest if he didnít quit the strenuous activity.
And then there were the unnatural colors that people turned. Yaten prided himself on a pale complexion, and he couldnít see how turning all red and splotchy was at all arousing. If anything, it made him look like he was coming down with a very sudden case of the chicken pox. The first time it had happened, he had been worried that it was a permanent condition, and thus lamenting the end of his career as a pop star in the middle of it.
Sex was terrifying! Up until very recently, Yaten had been at a complete loss as to why people put themselves through it.
Minako stilled above him (finally; the woman was utterly insatiable and next to impossible to get off) and laid her gold head on his chest. She was panting in a way that he would have thought was disgusting were it not for the giggles that kept interrupting her breaths. He reached up and ran a hand down her back, practically slick with sweat, and he actually didn't mind that too much either. Not that he would ever admit it aloud. She looked up, her blue eyes glinting as dangerously as a murderer.
"Care for another go?" she asked, though as usual, she didn't bother for him to actually respond. She merely dipped her head, using lips and tongue and teeth at that spot right below his ear that she knew very well drove him to the brink of insanity. Never mind that he was exhausted and had more than likely pulled a muscle some time ago. No, Aino Minako would hear none of that and merely continue on as if whatever he wanted had absolutely no bearing on what they were doing.
No, Yaten decided as his eyes fluttered closed and a quiet groan escaping his lips. There was definitely no such thing as safe sex with Aino Minako in the world.