The Secret Virgin

by Kate Gilead

  Poking into an open, half-emptied box, I pick stuff up and carry it around absently. I end up putting a boyhood baseball trophy in the refrigerator, a framed photo of my parents in the junk drawer and a package of batteries on the mantle piece before I realize what I’m doing.

  I’ve got a bad case of Beautiful Girl on the brain.

  I put that stuff away properly and go down the hall to take a cold shower. Standing under the cold water only helps for a minute, since my body soon adjusts to it. As soon as I start soaping it up, my cock stiffens in my hand.

  My mind keeps picturing Brenda’s lips, and what they might feel like around my shaft. I can’t seem to help it, can’t seem to stop it, so I just give in to it.

  I put some warmer water on and then lather my rod generously, alternating a tight grip with a looser one. I wonder how experienced she is, whether she can take a bigger-than-usual cock like mine. It’s not freakishly big but it’s pretty respectable. I let my imagination run wild, and picture Brenda looking up at me with those light brown eyes, hair hanging wild and free down her back, red lips moving up and down my cock. Fuck! I keep that image in my mind’s eye. In seconds, the surge in my balls starts and my orgasm rises through my shaft. I groan as my imaginary Brenda swallows greedily, looking up at me with that fiery-yet-innocent gaze of hers.

  Afterwards, I manage to get my bedroom entirely unpacked. It takes way longer than it should because I have to keep forcing myself to stop thinking about red lips and brown eyes. I’m glad to get that much done but by the time I’m finished, my dick is semi-erect again and I have to satisfy myself once more before bed, just to be able to sleep.

  The next night, I’m waiting for her at Ron’s Ristorante as planned. I’m seated at a table and talking to Ron, the owner, when she arrives. It’s windy out, and when she steps through the door, there’s high color in her cheeks, her hair is a little messed up and she’s wearing that hot red lipstick again.

  She’s abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous. Dressed casually but smartly in navy, form-fitting slacks, with a navy pin-striped shirt under a quilted jacket. A bright, multi-colored scarf sets off her complexion to a tee but my eyes are drawn to her long legs and the curve of her ass. Damn!

  All eyes in the place linger on her as she looks for me. I raise a hand and she heads my way. Ron lifts his eyebrows at me, nods discreetly and moves away.

  She comes to the table, sits, and smiles that smile at me. I’m glad to have the table to cover the burgeoning semi going on in my pants.

  We order drinks and start talking, the conversation flowing as if we’ve known each other for years. She tells me what she likes to read, which is, apparently, everything under the sun, from romance to noir to thrillers to sci-fi.

  It turns out that she’s a gamer, too, having grown up gaming with her friend Amanda. I love how excited she gets when she talks about playing shooters, especially a cartoonish, innuendo-filled franchise which she still plays, despite the fact that it’s an older game. It just so happens that I love that franchise too, and we break a lot of ice discussing missions and strategies in-game. We decide that we’ll meet online and partner up sometime soon.

  I badly want to ‘partner up’ with her tonight, but I don’t say so of course. Despite the naughty text she accidentally sent last night, there’s something fresh and innocent about her. I keep trying to put my finger on it.

  As she’s talking animatedly about gaming, I can’t help but think about what her bratty boy-child ex-boyfriend said to her in the park. I wonder if it’s possible that she’s still…no…but…could it be?

  There’s something about her that’s pure and clean and sexy as hell. I know some girls her age are fairly experienced. Some, maybe be more so than me.

  But Brenda just seems…different. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or what the hell it is. Maybe she’s just inexperienced or picky or something.

  All I know is, I’m bewitched. Enchanted. Completely taken in and under her spell. And I don’t want to do anything to break it. I want to earn her trust, I want to be worthy of whatever it is that my heart seems to think is going on here.

  She asks me about my life, showing interest in everything about me. When I tell her that I’m from Merlington originally but lived in D.C. for a while, she wants to know about that.

  I explain that I lived there while I was married and stayed long after the divorce, for my job. But I always loved my home town and wanted to move back. It took a long time, because jobs in my field are scarce, but I jumped on it when something opened up here.

  I tell her that I’ve been back here for a year and just bought a property, moving from a cramped one-bedroom apartment to a house with a big yard just last week.

  She asks about my marriage but it was long ago and not my proudest moment. I tell her the bare minimum, which is that I got married right after high school and that we moved to D.C. to live with my ex-wife’s father so that we could go to college.

  And, that it didn’t work out very well.

  It was a complicated situation, one that we were both too young to handle, so I change the subject as soon as I can. There’s plenty of time for the telling of ancient history. I’m more interested in the here and now, and how Brenda might fit into it, with me.

  In turn, I ask her questions and she fills me in on her life, her family, her older brother’s impending marriage to her best friend and the upcoming birth of their child. It’s so nice to hear someone speak so well of their family. It’s apparent that they are a close-knit, loving clan, not all full of drama and negativity.

  I’ve had enough of that in my own past and I find myself very drawn to Brenda’s humor, and optimism and the general sense of positivity that she seems to embody.

  We talk for so long over appetizers and salads that we almost forget to order dinner. Ron’s patient and discreet hovering gets him nowhere, so he’s forced to try a different tactic, which is a rather loud “Ahem!” followed by, “Will you be having any entrées this evening, or would you like to go straight to dessert?”

  If dessert is Brenda then hell yeah…but I keep that sentiment to myself. Brenda catches my eye and her expression says she heard the innuendo in that comment too. We both laugh. I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength; glad she has a silly sense of humor about innuendo and sex too.

  We order Ron’s specialty, crab-cake burgers dressed with mango chutney, and Brenda asks if they have sweet pickled beets. They do, and when the meals come, I’m delighted to see that she puts the pickles on her burger as if they’re regular bread-and-butter pickles.

  I have the pleasure of watching her face when she takes her first bite of the crab-cake burger. Her eyes flutter closed as she chews thoroughly and swallows.

  Jesus, there goes my dick again.

  “Oh my God, this is delicious,” she says, licking her lips. The sight almost makes me groan out loud. “What’s in it?”

  “I’ve been trying to find out for months now. Ron never tells.” Her smile and the look on her face as she digs in to the rest of the burger is reward in itself.

  I hope to have a chance to make those eyes of hers flutter closed like that again. With my tongue first, and then, my…but nope, that line of thinking is just going to make my semi come back, so I push that away and dig in myself.

  She puts the burger down, winks at me, and then devours a handful of potato wedges with unselfconscious gusto. I can’t tell if she knows what she’s doing to me or not.

  And besides how sexy she is, I totally love it when a girl is not ashamed to eat.

  “Say,” she says, later, when Ron has removed the dishes and taken our desert order, “I noticed that you have another big crate in the back of your Jeep. Mind if I ask, do you have another dog?”

  “I…no. That crate belongs to Meff, my ex’s Great Dane.”

  “Excuse me? Your ex has a dog named Meth?”

  “No, no, Meff. It’s short for Mephistopheles,” I say. “He’s well-named, because he is the biggest p
ain-in-the-ass dog I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh, ha! Okay, I get it. Mephistopheles was one of Faust’s devils, wasn’t he?”

  “Right,” I say, impressed that she knows that. “And I think, a devilish character in other stories as well. Anyway, it’s not his fault.”

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  I don’t want to talk about my ex but she asked, so I tell her. “Valeriss, my ex, refuses to discipline him. She’s one of those people who never say no, or enforce any rules. After she got the dog, sometimes I took him for a weekend, let him hang with Tiny and chill. Tried to train him, work with him a little bit. He’d always go back to her place better behaved, but it never lasted.”

  “Oh. And you still take him for weekends?” She laughs but looks skeptical. “I thought you said you were married right out of high school. How old is this dog anyway?” Her smile is genuine and friendly but her question is pointed.

  “Oh, hah! No, no. She got the dog a few years back. We stayed friends after the divorce and, you know, helped each other out from time to time. I mean, I’ve known her forever. There’s nothing sexual, of course! Nothing…we’re not in love or anything like that. In fact, I haven’t seen her since I moved back here. The crate’s been handy for some other friend’s dogs, so I left it in the truck.”

  She still looks skeptical. “Well, that’s good, I guess. You don’t often hear about people staying friends after the marriage ends. Not that it’s my business.”

  I’m worried now that she’s thinking that my ex is still in the picture. Well, nothing I can do about that right this second, unfortunately.

  She changes the subject, talking about how Diesel seemed to settle right in at her place, and how she still has to Skype her parents in Florida to tell them about the dog.

  She reaches out to pick up her glass but I grab her hand and twine her fingers in mine. I look into those eyes of hers and a heated feeling sweeps through me, just like yesterday in the park. Her eyes widen, and this time, I know in my gut that she feels it too. She squeezes my hand and stares at me, with an unasked question in her eyes.

  Eventually, Ron brings dessert, which is chocolate mousse over sugared strawberries, garnished with wafers. We savor it, eating slowly, sipping coffee, and talking a mile a minute.

  We’re having so much fun that neither one of us wants the night to end. But we both have dogs that need out, so we leave the restaurant around eleven o’clock to take care of them. Standing by her car, she invites me to meet her and her dogs at the park for a late walk. This makes me so ridiculously happy that I have to restrain myself from grabbing her and twirling her around.

  I gladly accept and head home to pick up Tiny.

  At the park, Brenda is nervous about letting Princess run free in the dark, so we let the three dogs loose in the fenced-in area to have a last romp for the night and do their business.

  The fenced area is quite large, and we do laps around the perimeter to keep warm while we’re watching the dogs.

  After twenty minutes or so, we stop under a lamppost. “Brrr, it’s gotten cold fast,” Brenda says, shivering.

  “C’mere,” I say quietly, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. She smiles and huddles against me. The top of her head is just below my chin. Without even thinking, I plant a kiss on her hair. It smells fresh and good.

  She responds by letting out a little groan and leaning even closer into my body. My dick tries to get interested and I struggle to convince it otherwise.

  She puts an arm around my waist and holds on tightly.

  “So, what are your plans for next weekend?” I ask, just to take my mind off what’s going on in my pants.

  “I’m going to my brother’s place for dinner Friday night. Amanda’s a great cook. She cooked the Thanksgiving turkey, and the biggest ham I’ve ever seen for Christmas!”

  “Mmm, sounds yummy,” I say.

  “Hellz, yeah! This weekend, she’ll be doing her specialty, a roast chicken with all the trimmings. What about you?”

  “I’ll be at my mom’s Friday night, helping her clean out the attic. I should really be worrying about unpacking my house, but she’s been asking for help for a long time. She’ll pay me in home cooking, too.” He smiles. “I’m free Saturday, though. What about you?”

  She looks up at me, eyes shining. “Me too.”

  “So, do you want to hang out, maybe?” I say, and kiss the tip of her nose.

  I can’t help it. I have to kiss her or I’m going to have a stroke or something.

  “I do,” she says, wrinkling her nose and tipping her head back. Our eyes meet and hold each other’s gaze. She lifts her chin, then her gaze moves to my mouth and back to my eyes again, an invitation to touch those ruby-red lips with my own.

  I lower my head and kiss her, my cock beginning to throb.

  Chapter Seven

  Brenda

  Looking up into Robert’s face as we stand in each other’s arms, my heart is pounding so hard, he must be able to hear it.

  He kisses my nose, which tickles. It’s nice but I want more. And it’s so exciting to look into his eyes…to be in the shelter of his arms and feel my body tremble when he brings his lips close to mine.

  He stops short though, his eyes almost closed. I look at his mouth, those sensuous lips, and back up to his eyes. I move my head closer to his, chasing what I need from him.

  And he gives it to me. His lips are soft and warm, and press mine so gently, it’s like he’s afraid he’ll hurt me. He lingers there, barely touching me, and we kiss, breathing each other in.

  My mouth opens slightly and presses his more firmly, and we explore each other, tongues touching and darting away.

  Ahhh, God. I want this man so bad!

  He turns his body into me, breaking the kiss. He rests his forehead against mine, one of his hands rising to caress my face. He lifts my chin and kisses me again, quickly, and smiles, that one dimple showing itself before fading away.

  His kisses send fire from my mouth straight to the center of my being. I’m already wet, just from the way he’s been looking at me all evening. Just from being with him. And now…my knees are so weak, I don’t even know how I’m still standing up.

  “Oh, that was nice,” he whispers. “Thank you Miss Brenda. Thank you for letting me lend you a leash yesterday. Thank you for letting me take you out to dinner tonight. Thank you for being so lovely.” With each “thank-you”, he kisses me, then he puts one arm around my waist and one around my shoulders and hugs me tightly.

  I rest my head on his chest while both of my arms encircle his waist, warm under his jacket. I can feel the minute movement of the slabs of muscles in his side and back as his weight shifts. Mmmm!

  “Do you think we can meet sometime during the week, too, maybe?” he whispers into my hair. “Walk the dogs, or grab a bite, maybe? I don’t want to wait until Saturday to see you again.”

  “That sounds good! I can come to the park a couple times this week probably.”

  “Deal,” he says. “Just let me know when and I’ll meet you,” he says, nuzzling my hair again. His hands are on my waist, under my jacket, caressing my sides.

  “Okay…” I say, a bit breathlessly. I hear a quiet sound and look down to see Princess standing at my feet, holding one paw up. Her ears go back and she dances, eyes shining.

  “I think they’re done for the night,” I say, regretfully.

  “Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh.

  We clean up after the dogs and head to the parking lot. He helps me put the dogs into the car and then grabs me, picks me up, and kisses me a bunch of times, quick ones, over and over again.

  “This is to last me until I see you again,” he says, setting me on my feet.

  “Well hopefully that won’t be too long from now.”

  “I’’m busy tomorrow but I’d probably want to see you, if you’re free.” He laughs, looking down at me warmly.

  Tomorrow’s Sunday. Laundry and house-cleaning day
. I want to see him too but I think it’s probably better that we take at least one day off from seeing each other, since we did only just meet.

  Besides, based on how horny he’s making me, I’m afraid I’ll just throw all caution to the wind and end up in his bed. Or invite him to mine.

  All I know is, I don’t want to wait too long for that to happen. Weeks, maybe. Maybe. Months…? No fracking way.

  “I want to see you too,” I say, “but Sunday’s chore day at my house. You can call or text me anytime, though.”

  “Okay. Same for you,” he says.

  After one last kiss, we go our separate ways.

  I wake up the next morning and turn to look for Princess. She’s not in her usual spot next to me. I sit up, looking around. There’s Diesel, curled up in his makeshift bed, nose touching tail.

  “Hi, Deez,” I say. He lifts his head and blinks at me sleepily, then his ears go back and his tail thumps. He stretches, and as he changes position, a fluff of rusty-colored fur shows up behind him. Sometime during the night, Princess apparently moved into his bed.

  Awww! So cute!

  “What happened, Deez?” I say. “Did Princess seduce you in the night? Huh? Did she hog your bed?”

  Princess’ head lifts and she stretches lazily too, then she comes over and climbs the little set of steps up to my bed. She waggles her whole self and licks my face in greeting. Playfully, I blow on her fur, which always makes her do nutty things.

  She doesn’t disappoint. Rearing back, she shakes her head from side to side, huffing and showing me the whites of her eyes. She play-bows, and then goes into one of those moments of crazed joy that dogs sometimes have. She jumps back down the steps and starts tearing around in circles on the floor.

  Diesel watches her quizzically, looking up at me when I laugh. He puts his ears back, smiles his doggy smile and huffs doggy laughter. Princess prances and puppy-hops over to him, play-bowing and then tearing away again. He ignores her and flops back down onto his side, heaving a sigh.