The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles

by Meghan Quinn

  “Did he kiss your pussy?” Delaney asked from where she was perched on the counter. Her voice sounded like a seventy-year-old smoker’s. She had the most amazing morning voice ever. Sometimes when we were all drunk, Henry and I would try to reenact it, but Derk was the only one who came close to providing justice to the impersonation.

  “No, why would you ask that?”

  “Just wondering. Didn’t know if there were more juicy details than just a kiss.”

  “It wasn’t just a kiss,” I replied. “He was sweet and tender—”

  “Don’t say tender.” Delaney held up her hand. “God, I hate that word. And moist. When you’re writing, please make sure never to say his tender hands ran up my moist lady folds. God, I gag just thinking about it.”

  “Okay,” I dragged out. “Moist and tender are stricken from my vocabulary. Henry, would you like me to remove any words as well?”

  “Choad. That word is nasty.”

  “Why would I ever use that word?”

  “Who knows, you’re a loose cannon.”

  That was true, especially since I was so easily influenced through the books I read. For heaven’s sake, before my conversation with Henry, I’d wondered what other things could be held in a women’s butt hole.

  “So anything else happen?” Delaney asked, changing the subject back to the date.

  I grimaced as I set my coffee cup down.

  “The night was going fantastic—”

  “Was going? Uh oh, what happened?”

  “Let her tell the story,” Delaney said, smacking his shoulder and sitting on the counter next to me, snuggling up for story time.

  “The night was going fantastic,” I repeated. “I bowled terribly, and he was great, of course.” Henry rolled his eyes. “We had a nice conversation at the bar for a bit, talking about traveling and where we would want to go.”

  “Iceland,” Henry said while pointing at me.

  “Henry, let her talk,” Delaney said.

  “Yes, I told him about Iceland and he didn’t ridicule me. He actually had a friend who went there and said it was gorgeous. Anyway, we decided to bowl again. Since I was so bad, he thought it would be helpful to give me some pointers—”

  “Classic move to get close to you,” Henry interrupted again.

  “I will cut your balls off if you get in the way of this story one more time,” Delaney said, causing Henry to back off.

  Don’t mess with Delaney when she was fresh out of bed had yet to finish her first coffee.

  “Coffee,” Derk mumbled as he shuffled out of Delaney’s room and into the kitchen.

  “Shh,” Delaney said as she pointed to the pot already made. Derk wasn’t looking much better than Delaney, so they must have gone out clubbing, one of their favorite things to do.

  Right about now, they could win world’s best mug shot if put up against the wall in the police station.

  “He was giving you pointers . . .” Delaney said.

  “Yes, so I decided to take them and the first one I tossed landed right in the gutter. I think it’s because my thumb was hurting, and the ball was kind of small for me. The holes, that is. So he encouraged me some more, stood behind me and waited for me to throw the ball again.”

  “Holy shit, you threw the ball backward and tossed it right into his nut sac, didn’t you?” Henry said with a giant grin.

  “No!”

  “Henry.” Delaney flew across the counter holding up a pen as a weapon. “I will stab you in your trachea.”

  Laughing, Henry backed up and asked me to continue.

  “I didn’t throw the bowling ball into his crotch.”

  “Sorry, but it would only make sense after your date on Friday. You’re a ball crusher.”

  “Semen smasher,” Derk chimed in, looking more lively now.

  “Jiz jostler.”

  “Man-milk mutilator.”

  “Good one,” Henry said while giving Derk a fist bump.

  “Do you want to hear the story or not?” I asked, now getting frustrated.

  “Sorry, please proceed, love,” Henry said with an endearing look. Frustrating man.

  “So, I was throwing the ball forward and as I bent down to release, my pants ripped right in the seam from crotch to ass.”

  My friends sat silent and stared at me, not making a move to say anything, so that’s when I showed them my pants that were folded on the counter. I shook them out and stuck my hand through the gaping hole in the crotch to prove my point.

  Delaney was the first to crack as she busted out in laughter, followed by Derk and Henry who grabbed the jeans from me and inspected them.

  “Only you.” Henry shook his head while examining the crotch. “What did you do?” he asked, clearly concerned but with a little or amusement still left in his voice.

  “Well, clearly I was mortified and stood there for a second, bent over, hoping nothing was showing, and that’s when I remembered I was in a black-light situation with a freshly bleached butthole—”

  “Wait, what?” Derk asked while looking over at Delaney. “You made her bleach her butthole? Why would you do that?”

  Delaney looked at her nails and said, “There is too much butthole talk in this apartment. Honestly, can’t we be adults and talk about something else?”

  “No,” Derk said matter-of-factly. “Why did she get her butthole bleached?”

  “I didn’t tell her to do it. Marta did.”

  Derk shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “I can’t wrap my head around that right now. Bloom, tell us why it mattered about your bleached ass.”

  “Duh, I didn’t want it lighting up for the world to see under the black lights.”

  It made perfect sense to me but apparently Henry, Delaney, and Derk thought I was joking because at the same time, they all threw their heads back and roared with laughter while grabbing on to their stomachs.

  “Please don’t tell me you think the black lights would have made that thing glow,” Delaney offered.

  “I don’t know. They might have.”

  “Rosie, your asshole was bleached, not dipped in radioactive materials. That is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. Please don’t tell me you actually believed that.”

  I just shrugged my shoulders because frankly, I’d been deathly scared of things lighting up down there from the black lights. I had no clue what Marta did to me. For all I knew, she could have pierced the damn thing, and I wouldn’t have felt it, not after the ass-ripping she gave me right before.

  “That’s beside the point,” Henry cut in. “I want to know what you did.”

  Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Lance noticed something was wrong immediately so he started to come toward me, which I didn’t want, given my predicament, so I backed up into the alley and slipped on the grease they use to help the balls roll, falling straight on my ass and exposing my ripped jeans for Lance. Gave him a front-row seat actually.”

  “Oh Jesus.” Henry shook his head while Delaney and Derk tried to contain their laughter.

  “Yea, he was pretty sweet about it though. He told me about a time he split his pants and then he gave me his cardigan so I could walk out of the bowling alley with a shred of dignity. He brought me back here and that’s when he kissed me outside our apartment. It was fantastic.”

  “Besides the jeans ripping and exposing Virginia to Lance on the first night, I would say you had a good date,” Henry said.

  “We did. He asked me to go out again.”

  “Do you want to see him again?” Delaney asked while Derk saddled up next to her to place a hand on her bare thigh.

  “I do,” I admitted, wanting what Delaney had with Derk. “I’m just nervous. First of all, I have that date with Alejandro tomorrow. Do I cancel it or do I still go on it?”

  “You have no promises committed to Lance, you aren’t exclusive, so I say still go on the date,” Delaney said. “Right, Henry?”

  Henry was looking at his coffee mug as if in seriou
s thought.

  “What?”

  Rolling her eyes, Delaney repeated herself. “Rosie can still go on a date with Alejandro tomorrow.”

  “Eh, no. I don’t think that’s a good—”

  “Shut up,” Delaney said. “You’re only saying that because you don’t like Alejandro, which is just so weird since you were the one who set up her online dating account. You really only have yourself to blame.” She turned to me and said, “You’re going out with Alejandro tomorrow. What’s the second issue?”

  Feeling a little awkward, especially since Derk was in the room and Henry was being weird, I shifted in my seat and finished my coffee. How do I say this? “Things got pretty heated with us last night. He was very touchy. I liked it, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like if I go on another date with him, he’s going to want to step it up a notch.”

  “Don’t you want that?” Henry asked.

  “Yes, but I don’t know if I’m ready. I mean, what if he pulls his pants down?”

  “What do you mean?” Henry asked. “Do you think guys just enter a room and pull their pants down?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “I started this new book and the guy walks in the room all the time with his pants off. What if that happens to me? What if he pulls his pants down and starts pelvic thrusting in my direction? What do I do? Do I open my mouth? Or do I spread my legs?”

  “Jesus.” Henry ran his hands through his hair. Shamelessly, I watched as his torso flexed with his movements. He was my friend, but I was still allowed to admire. “Love, listen to me closely. If Lance walks in the room and pulls his pants down, you need to leave, because what dude just pulls his pants off? That’s fucking weird. And do you open your mouth? Seriously?”

  Laughing, I said, “I just want to make sure I do the right thing.”

  “Do not open your mouth if a dick comes flying at your face.”

  “But you told me guys like blow jobs.”

  “They do,” he responded. “But you only give him a blow job if you want, not because he’s tapping you on the cheek with his dick. Jesus, you were so sheltered.”

  “Okay, so let’s say he pulls his pants down and I want to give him a blow job. How do I know if I’m doing it right?”

  “We went over this the other day,” Henry said, grabbing another banana and flipping it at me. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  “I’m not sucking on this banana in front of all of you to judge me.” I had my limits.

  “I’ll help,” Delaney said while getting off the counter and grabbing a matching banana. “This will be easy, given the size of this. It doesn’t even come close to my man, right, babe?”

  Derk winked at her and said, “You’ve got that right, gorgeous.”

  “Derk, come over here. Let’s hold the bananas for the girls so they can fully use their hands. Grab the base like this,” Henry said. “Love, pretend my fist are the balls, okay?”

  “This is so ridiculous.”

  “Just imagine,” Henry continued, “once you master the blow job, you will be able to write a blow job into your book without even thinking, as it will come—no pun intended—so naturally. Don’t you want that, love?” His voice suggested he was joking, but I knew he was trying to help, which was why I loved him. I could only wish I ended up with someone like Henry. Someone who never hesitated to help no matter the task. Surely I can find my own Henry one day.

  “Fine, but I swear to God, if something ever happens with one of these guys, you keep your mouths shut. I don’t want them knowing I practiced on a banana.”

  “Promise this stays between us. Right, you guys?” Henry asked.

  “Yes,” both Delaney and Derk answered together.

  “Okay, where should I start?” I looked at the banana Henry was clutching.

  “Taking your shirts off would be job one,” Derk said, staring at Delaney.

  “Dude,” Henry chastised him. “No, shirts stay on.” Henry turned toward me and said, “Remember what we talked about? Start there.”

  Leaning forward, I looked at the banana and shook my head in disbelief. Was I really about to suck off a banana? I wanted to learn, and if I was put in a situation where I was with Lance or even Alejandro, I didn’t want to fumble around. I wanted to have at least a small amount of confidence, so that was why my lips were wrapped around a banana while pretending Henry’s fist was his balls.

  “That’s perfect,” Henry said. I looked over at Delaney and noticed she and Derk were lost in their own little world while she pleasured the banana and looked up at Derk, enticing him.

  It didn’t take them very long to abandon the practice . . .

  “We’re done with this,” Derk said, tossing the banana and grabbing a hold of Delaney. He led her out of the kitchen and back to her bedroom with Delaney giggling the entire time.

  I pulled away and looked up at Henry. “This is so ridiculous. People don’t practice on bananas.”

  “You can practice on me.” Henry wiggled his eyebrows.

  “You keep offering, Henry, but when are you going to realize it’s never going to happen?”

  “You’ll say yes one day, love.”

  “Okay.” I rolled my eyes. “Back to the banana. What about a condom? I read that the guys like it when the girls put the condom on for them. Is that true?”

  “Are we done with sucking the banana?”

  “I don’t know; it just seems weird.”

  “Just do it real quick and then we’ll talk about condoms.”

  “Fine.” I grabbed hold of Henry’s fist and started to lightly massage it while I ran my tongue along the ridge of the banana and then down the underneath of the banana until I hit Henry’s fist. I licked his finger while laughing and then went back up just like he said. Once I returned to the tip of the banana, I pulled the circumference of it into my mouth and started sucking. I looked up at Henry who had hazy eyes, and that’s when I glanced at his crotch. Henry, my Henry, was excited. He caught my eyes and pulled away, but he wasn’t ashamed.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “That was hot.”

  A small smile crossed my face while I tried to avoid eye contact with his arousal. “I didn’t get to the humming part.”

  God, I felt so awkward and I hated, absolutely hated that Henry was so comfortable with his sexuality that he could just sit there, aroused, and be okay with it.

  “I’m sure when you hum, you will be just fine. There’s nothing to it.” He winked and then left for his bedroom while shifting his pants around a little. When he returned shortly after, I couldn’t help but glance at his crotch and to my dismay, he was already settled down. I apparently got him excited, but not that excited . . . not that I was trying. It would have been nice to see him harder for longer.

  What the hell am I thinking? No, I didn’t want to see him hard at all. Good Lord. I needed to get a grip. All the new romance novels in my life and sex talk had my mind wandering.

  “Here.” Henry handed me a small packet that said magnum on it. I wasn’t completely dense. I knew what a magnum condom was, I watched TV. Henry just handed me one, which made me think he must be . . .

  “Stop staring at my dick,” Henry said, catching me off guard.

  “Sorry,” I said, embarrassed. “It’s just, this is a magnum condom,” I practically whispered, making Henry chuckle and whisper back.

  “I know. I wear them all the time.”

  I stared at him because things just got personal. Yeah, I sucked a banana while he held it, something I would block out of my memory, but right now, I was holding his condom and that was more personal than anything we had done together. It almost felt like I was holding his penis in my hands, which I knew wasn’t true but still, I couldn’t help but think of it that way.

  “Rosie, it’s a condom, not a bomb you have to dismantle. Unwrap it and place it on the banana.”

  “Why can’t guys just do this themselves?” I mumbled as the package proved to be a little harder to open then I expected. “They
should make these easier to open.”

  Just as I tore open the package, the condom flew in the air and landed right in Henry’s coffee that was on the counter.

  I smiled at Henry and said, “Good thing we aren’t using this for real, or else you would be having a coffee cock.”

  I giggled too much at my lame joke. Henry studied me with that questioning look of his, as if he was trying to read me. I didn’t like that look; it always made me nervous.

  He plucked the condom out of the coffee and wiped it off on his pants. He gave it to me and then looked at the banana. Carefully, he showed me how to roll it on and told me about the process and how to make it fun for the guy as well by teasing him slowly. He also told me if I become really experienced, I could roll it on with my mouth while taking in the guy’s length but that seemed too intense.

  All I could envision was getting the condom stuck in the back of my throat and dying from choking on said condom. I could see my tombstone now. Rosie Bloom: died from affixation of a condom. Her last words were, “Watch me put this on.”

  Yeah, not the way I wanted to go, so I steered clear of the old mouth trick.

  “That seems pretty easy.”

  “It is. Just roll it down,” Henry said. “Now a guy should be well trimmed downstairs but if he isn’t, make sure you avoid getting the rubber in his pubes. That shit would hurt.”

  “Wait, so I go and get waxed to hell but a guy can show up with hairy berries and that’s okay?”

  “It’s not okay, that shit is nasty but yeah, some guys think it’s manly to have hair protruding from every wrinkle of his nut sac.”

  “Ick, gross. Doesn’t it get sweaty down there?”

  “Yea, massively sweaty sometimes, so if a guy has a bush, I would consider moving on; you don’t want to deal with that.”

  Noted. What if Lance had a bush? Maybe that was his flaw. If that was the one and only flaw he had, I was pretty sure I could deal with it, because all he would need was a little feminine encouragement.

  “Do you have hair down there?” I asked Henry. “You have this little happy trail”—I pointed—“so does that mean you don’t trim?”

  Henry gave me a pointed look and said, “Love, does it look like I would be a guy carrying around a massive pile of burnt spaghetti with my balls?”