The Last Virgin in Texas

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The Last Virgin in Texas Page 2

by Jennifer Woodhull


  Being hard is a semi-permanent state since I started going out with Gretchen. She’s hot as fuck. When I kissed her that night, though, there was a lot more to it than lust. Her lips were so soft and sweet. When I dragged my tongue along the seam of her lips, she gave this soft little whimper and her body just melted against mine. I felt a twinge in my chest. That’s when I knew things were different with her.

  Gretchen’s not just some girl I’m trying to fuck. She’s not just a fling. I’m gonna take my time with her. I want it to be good for her—something we can both remember for a long time. I care about Gretchen. When she’s laying in my arms tonight, I’m gonna ask her to come with me to California. We can build a life there together, her and me.

  My heart is pounding out of my chest as I stand and pull her to me. It’s a lot, what I’m asking her to do. She’ll have to leave her mama and everybody she ever knew for that matter. If she’ll trust me, though, I might be about to get everything I could dream of—a new career, a life in paradise, and the perfect girl to share it with.

  Three

  Tucker pulls me close and presses his mouth to mine and it’s familiar, exciting, and it feels like so much more than just a simple kiss. Strong arms encircle me as his soft lips press against mine. Soon, he covers my mouth with his, my lips parting to let his tongue glide against mine.

  I fold my arms around his neck, and he lifts me up and onto the bed. As he consumes me with his kiss, he presses against me, his dick is hard and hot against my panties. The rivets on the pockets of his jeans press into the flesh of my calves as I wrap my legs around him. I love this feeling of grinding against each other.

  I’ve only had the pleasure of firsthand knowledge of a handful of dicks, no pun intended. I’ve had three boyfriends before Tucker and only messed around with two of them. I've also seen a couple of other guys’ equipment when we were skinny dipping down at Chandler Creek last summer. From that extensive firsthand experience, I can safely say Tucker Kane’s cock is the biggest, the most beautiful piece of manly perfection I’ve ever witnessed. It’s big enough that the prospect of stuffing that thing in my vajay-jay is kinda intimidating, to tell the truth. I’m not sure how it’s even gonna fit, but he assures me it won’t be a problem.

  His palm pushes the strap of my dress down off my shoulder. His fingers make short work of the buttons at the front and soon his mouth is on my skin. The wet heat of his tongue glides in circles around my nipple and when he closes his lips around the sensitive peak, it drives me insane.

  “You like that, baby?” He smirks as his eyes meet mine.

  “Fuck, yes.”

  He slides his hands down my belly, crooking his thumbs into the sides of my panties and shimmies them off. His fingers move up and down my slick seam, and he dips his fingers into my channel and groans. “Fuck, Gretchen, I wanna be inside you so damn bad.”

  “I’m ready, Tucker. I want this,” I reply, more certain than ever that I want this to happen.

  If I can just get through the worst of it, I’ll be fine.

  After all, people wouldn’t do it if didn’t feel good, and if everything else he does is any indication, this might feel so good it kills me.

  He peels his shirt off and slides out of his jeans. He sheathes his length with the condom, then, as if suddenly remembering something he reaches up and grabs one of my pillows.

  “Lift your hips, baby.” I do and he shoves the pillow under me. “This’ll help, from what I hear.”

  He leans down over me and presses his lips to mine, sliding his tongue against mine. “I’m gonna be real gentle, baby, alright? I ain’t gonna lie, it’s probably gonna hurt at first, but you tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop, I swear.”

  “Okay, I will. Besides, I hear that part goes quick.” I reach up and pull him closer, tugging on his lips with mine. “I’m ready, I promise. I want this, Tucker…I want you.”

  His eyes are still dark with heat, but he’s smiling a big, broad, happy smile. “I want you too, Gretchen.”

  He’s pensive as he looks down to the place where the two of us are touching. He’s pressing his hard, hot length against my seam and sliding up and down. The feel of him there as he moves against my folds, it holds so much promise of pleasure that it makes my channel ache with want.

  He uses his hand to guide him, placing the thick crown of his glorious cock at my opening. He meets my gaze, his hooded eyes pleading. I nod, but before he can move forward, a disembodied scream shocks us from the moment.

  “Get off my daughter!”

  With those words, a large stick comes down on Tucker’s backside and he winces.

  My eyes shoot wide open and dart back and forth.

  What the hell is Mama doin’ home?

  Before I can do anything, the stick, which I now see is a broom handle, comes down again, low across Tucker’s back. He puts his hand up to shield himself from the blows and rolls over off of me, climbing over me so I’m out of Mama’s reach. He’s shielding his face with one palm and his package with the other as Mama chases him around the bedroom with the broom.

  “Get the hell outta here, you pervert!” Her face is red, her brows knitted together.

  Tucker launches himself up, jumping over the far end of the bed, outstretching his hands, palms up, pleading. “Ms. Weber, please! Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s not what you think. Gretchen and me…”

  He can’t complete the sentence before she interrupts with another threat.

  “Get outta my house right now!” She rears back with the broom as if she’s going to bring it down on his head and I jump outta bed myself and put my hand up to grab the broom before she can inflict more damage.

  “I’ll call the sheriff! You best get outta here right now, and if you’ve taken my daughter’s virtue, I’m pressin’ charges!” She waves her thick index finger in the air as she sways down the hall, her heavy footsteps propelling her toward the phone.

  “I better go, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kisses me quick, pulling his jeans on as he grabs up the rest of his clothes. As he bolts for the door, he pauses, and looks back for a split second. “I love you, Gretchen.”

  I’m in shock. I’m stark naked and my Mama just beat my boyfriend’s literal ass in the middle of what was supposed to be our magical night. Now, he’s looking at me, telling me something he’s never said before. I wanna tell him I love him too, but right now, I can’t breathe, let alone speak. His eyes lock on mine, and seconds tick by…but they feel like hours. Finally, when he hears Mama coming back down the hallway, he shakes his head once and he’s gone.

  I grab up a t-shirt and sweatpants from the floor, slipping into them to cover myself.

  A moment later, I hear Mama coming back down the hall from the other end of the house, her massive collection of keys jangling. I imagine it’s akin to the sound ancient prisoners held deep in the bowels of some old stone castle would hear when the guards were coming, chains in hand, to spirit them away to a violent end.

  I quickly look to my left, then snap my head back to the right, looking for escape. I see the open window on the opposite side of the room, and just as I make a break for it, she enters, snatching my wrist as I try to scurry past.

  “Gretchen! How could you? Oh, how could you?!” She howls and casts her gaze skyward as if some divine intervention is imminent.

  “Mama, it’s not like that…he’s my boyfriend. We just…” I try to argue but there’s no reasoning with her when she’s like this. I am clearly bound for the only thing she believes will save me from eternal damnation.

  “Come on! We’re goin’ to see Pastor Bobby down at the church!”

  And, there it is.

  Clearly the only hope to save my soul is a sweaty, flatulent, bug-eyed pastor who tries to look down your shirt during communion. I never really loved church, but I loved our old pastor. At least it felt like Father Frank really cared about us all, kinda like grandkids. Since he retired, we’re left in the less-than-capable hands of Pastor Bobby t
he bug-eyed perv.

  I sit, slumped down, arms crossed, staring out the passenger-side window of Mama’s Buick as we drive to the church. She’s mumbling the Lord’s Prayer over and over under her breath. When I can’t take it anymore, I speak up to interrupt her mantra.

  “I thought you were goin’ to bingo.” I huff.

  “Oh-ho-ho, I bet you did, missy! Well, lucky for you, the church van got a flat tire, and we decided to just turn around and come on back.” She purses her lips, her eyes glinting with triumph as she looks down her nose through the windshield.

  “How’s that lucky for me?”

  “Cause if I hadn’t come back when I did, that Kane boy woulda taken your carnal treasure, that’s how!” She shakes her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. When I think what coulda happened if I were just five minutes later…makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve told you a million times, Gretchen! Men are only after one thing and they ain’t never gonna buy the cow when they can get the milk for free.”

  I just love it when she compares me to livestock. It’s my fave.

  I pull out my phone, turning toward the door to hide the fact that I’m trying to see if Tucker has texted me. She must see the blue glow of the screen, because, with her eyes still glued to the road, she reaches across and wrenches it from my hands. She rolls down the window, and to my horror, as we drive across the bridge, she chucks the phone out the window and into the creek.

  My eyes grow wide, my mouth falling open in horror.

  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Don’t they always take personal possessions away from prisoners in jail? Because that is definitely what this feels like—it feels like I’m on my way to sentencing.

  We pull into the church parking lot and Mama practically shoves me into Pastor Bobby’s office. She tells him the whole sordid tale.

  “…And when I walked in and saw that boy, bare as the day he was born, ruttin’ over my baby girl like a dog in heat? Well, I took a broom handle to his backside and run him right outta there!” Mama proclaims with theatrics that ought to earn her an award for Best Actress in a Spiritual Melodrama.

  “I see, I see, I see!” Pastor Bobby says, circling me as I sit in the chair across from his desk. He is looking down on me, wringing his hands, and licking his lips like I’m a juicy turkey leg fresh from the smoker.

  “Now, child, I’m gonna need you to tell me exactly what happened. Did he…,” he steps forward and puts a ruddy hand on my shoulder, making me shudder. “Did he insert his penis in your vagina, Gretchen? Did he breach your virtue?”

  Mama wails and holds a handkerchief up to her eyes.

  I roll my eyes and let out a sigh. “I don’t think that’s anybody’s business, to tell the truth,” I turn to my mother. “I’m eighteen anyway, Mama. If I wanna have sex with my boyfriend, I can and there ain’t nothin’ you can do to stop it.”

  She turns to me with fury painted across her face.

  Uh-oh. That might not have been the best argument to make right now.

  “Now you listen to me, you ungrateful girl. Do you know what I’ve given up for you? What I’ve sacrificed to keep you safe and raise you in a nothin’ little town like this? I coulda moved off to the city and made a life for myself, but no,” she hisses, leaning so far over the arm of the round-backed chair she occupies that I’m afraid it might tip over.

  “And why do you suppose I found myself in the position of havin’ to raise you all on my own?” Her painted on, henna-colored eyebrow cocks up impossibly high as she points an iridescent fuchsia nail at me. “Because your daddy,” she punctuates the words with her finger, “Couldn’t keep his peter in his pants, that’s why! He couldn’t take the responsibility of a family, so he took off.”

  She clutches at her chest, and Pastor Bobby rushes over. “Now, now, Sophia, let me get you some water. Don’t let yourself get agitated.”

  She does this—gets herself all worked up until she’s on the verge of passing out. She looks to Pastor Bobby and nods, then casts her eyes back to me while he steps out to get her some water. That’s when I see it.

  Fear.

  Mama’s terrified that I’m going to end up alone to raise a child, just like she did.

  I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it in mine. “Mama, I’m sorry you had to give up your whole life. I know you coulda been happier if it wasn’t on account of me.”

  “Baby…no! That’s not what I’m sayin’ at all.” She stands and walks over to me, pulling me into her bosom and wrapping her arms around me. She cups my face in her hands and turns it up to her.

  “Gretchen, I want you to have every good thing in this life—to have choices. That won’t happen if you end up pregnant at eighteen by some boy that might be whisperin’ sweet words one day and gone the next. You didn’t make me give up my life, though, baby. You are my life.”

  I put my arms as far around her as they’ll go and squeeze her tight. “I’m so sorry, Mama. Thank you for takin’ care of me.” Tears fall down my cheeks, and I lift my chin to meet her gaze. “But you don’t know Tucker. He cares about me, and I can’t stay locked away forever.”

  “Oh, my beautiful girl.” She smooths back my hair with her palm. “I hope that’s true, and if he wants to marry you, I won’t try to stop you. Boys as pretty as Tucker Kane, though? They’re only ever out for themselves. I know. I mean, he’s almost as handsome as your daddy was.”

  I wouldn’t know. He’s never been more than a random name on a piece of paper as far as I’m concerned.

  Mama holds me tight and I turn her words over in my head. She can’t be right, though. Tucker loves me. He said so.

  He said so.

  Right before he left, Tucker told me he loved me, and I just froze.

  I gotta find him. I gotta tell him I love him too.

  Four

  “Stop laughin’, asshole!”

  “I can’t! It’s too funny!” Jared is literally doubled over.

  “Dude, I’m hurtin’ here. Have a little compassion, would ya?”

  “I’m sorry.” He swipes a finger out from under each eye. “I’m sorry! Wait, you said you’re hurtin’…she did come at you with the broom broadside, not point-first, right?”

  I toss a pair of balled up socks at his head. “You suck, dude. Why am I friends with you?”

  “Be-cause…I’m taking you to Cali.” He bounces back and forth from foot-to-foot as he sings. “To Cali, to Cali! We’re going back to Cali…” He pops the pair of socks up, three-point style, and they land squarely in my open duffle bag.

  “Yeah, okay, true,” I reply shaking my head.

  “Seriously, bro, you’re sure you’re okay leaving early?” He asks. “I didn’t know our apartment would be ready so fast.”

  “She didn’t…she didn’t say a thing, Jared.” I turn square to face him, shift my weight to one leg and rest one hand on my waist as I run the other through my hair. “I told her as I was leavin’…I told her that I loved her and she didn’t say a word.”

  After I finish packing my bag, we head downstairs. My parents are in the kitchen, and I walk in to say goodbye.

  “You got everything you need, son?” My dad asks.

  “I’m good, Dad,” I reply. When he shakes my hand, he presses a few bills into my palm. I tuck them into my back pocket and hug him.

  “If you need anything else, you just call, alright?” He says, giving me the serious look particular to dads when they want you to listen.

  “I promise I will.”

  I lean down and hug my mom and she squeezes my neck hard. “I love you, Tucker. Be safe and make good choices. You’re my only boy and I’m too old and tired to start over with a new kid if you get broken.” She pats my cheek and forces a smile as her brows furrow.

  When we break, she walks over to Jared and puts her hands on his shoulders. “You take care of each other, Jared, you hear me?”

  “Yes ma’am. We’ll look out for each other—that’s what friends are for.” He looks at me over her shoulde
r and gives me a nod.

  Once we get in the truck and head out, he asks me one last time.

  “You’re sure you don’t wanna head into town and talk to her before we leave?”

  “No, I feel like I oughta give her a few days. I’ll try to call her when we get to L.A.—I can always come get her next week once we’re settled in.” She hasn’t been answering her phone or replying to my text messages. “Besides, you’ll be back in a few weeks for your Mom’s birthday. I can come with you and see her then.”

  Driving out on the highway, I think about everything ahead of us. I’ll give Gretchen a few days to sort things out with her mom. Then, when we’re settled into our place and I’ve got a job, I’ll call her and bring her out. It’s a better plan, anyway. I can make a better case that I’ll be able to take care of her once I’ve got regular money coming in.

  Of course, that’s all assuming she even wants to come out to be with me.

  She didn’t say she loved me back, after all.

  I decide to give my mind a rest and try not to dwell on it anymore. On the highway, I don’t look in the rearview. Instead, I stare at the white lines as they draw closer and disappear. I try to concentrate on what’s ahead of us.

  I have to admit, L.A. is pretty fucking spectacular. People here are a lot different from back home, but that’s kinda the point, right? We wanted to try something different—see some of the world. That’s all Gretchen ever talks about.

  I can’t really believe it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her. The first couple of days we got settled into our new apartment and figured out how to get around. The agent that we’ve been working with found me a job waiting tables at a fancy restaurant a lot of celebrities frequent. It lets me be off in the mornings to go on auditions. The tips are great, and I’ve been picking up extra shifts. I want to make our little place nice before I go back home to get Gretchen—assuming she’ll come, that is. I figure, the way we left things, I’ll go home in another week or two, explain what I’ve been working on, and get her to come out here with me.

 

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