A few months ago, two women moved in with me, Charlie and Emilia. We had been friends for 8 years, and had a decent bit of trust between us. Emilia, being the warmer one, had little problem exposing herself to me, and on one occasion, trialed lingerie in front of me, despite her having a boyfriend at the time. We’ve had no sexual relationship, however, and our relationship is constrained to mild displays of sexuality. There’s no love between us.
I’m often seen as an effeminate man, and I admit that, somewhat, I act in a feminine manner. I’m that little boy to other girls, the person everyone sees as their own child. My voice is pitched higher, I wear scarves and, perhaps most importantly, I show little sexual desire. Probably for that reason, all of my roommates are female, and I the male friend who is all but one of their own. My apparent non-sexuality does have a few benefits: the two I live with act like themselves, and generally disregard the concept of decency around me. They’ll wear skimpy shorts and airy tops, seemingly without regard for my male presence. Sometimes, given that we’re low budget dwellers, they’ll cuddle against me on the couch in the winter, and rest their hands on my warm thighs. I’ve had them even fall asleep in my lap.