by Claire Adams
But Daisy . . . she wasn’t like that. She didn’t need to be in control all the time, and I liked that. When we got to her apartment, I paid the cab and slid out. She kept looking around, over her shoulder, as we walked over to her door, but there were just a few people walking by, talking quietly, the cars driving by on the street.
Inside her apartment, she felt around on the wall and turned the light on. It was a cute place, everything neat and orderly; there was the small entryway, then a short hallway to the bathroom and kitchen, at the end of the hallway was the living room and then, connected to it by two French doors, the bedroom.
I followed her down to the living room; I had waited long enough. I could tell that she was ready for it, too.
She set her purse down next to the couch and turned to say something to me, but I just stepped up and pulled her to me, pressed my mouth firmly against hers. Her body melded to mine instantly, like this was just the thing she was waiting for. She groaned softly as I let my hands roam her body, running down the length of her sides, then back up, tracing my hands lightly over her breasts. Feeling them like this through her shirt though simply wasn’t enough; I leaned back a bit so I could pull her shirt off, then her bra.
She had great tits; they weren’t big, but they were high and firm, the sort that didn’t require a bra of any sort, with pale pink nipples that tightened up real quick when I touched them, first with my hands, then my mouth. She made little whimpering noises and raked her hands through my hair.
I was like an explorer conquering new territory; I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d deflowered someone, though there had been a few. I wanted to make this as memorable for her as possible; how many stories did you hear about the first time being god-awful?
I pulled my own shirt off and felt her hands run down my lower back. I pushed her skirt down, then her underwear.
“Are you going to be comfortable here,” I said, nodding toward the couch, “or would you rather this continue in the bedroom?”
“Here is fine.” She was panting a little.
The couch was one of those sleek modern numbers, with one long cushion, wide enough that we could both lie on it comfortably. Before I lay all the way down, I stepped out of my pants, but left them within arm’s reach so I could grab the wallet out of my back pocket and slide the condom on.
But first.
I slid my hand between her legs, felt her open up, felt how wet she was. She nuzzled my neck with her lips, her hands running across my pecs, across my abdomen. No need to pre-wet anything; I gently slipped my finger into her, felt my dick get harder. She rocked her pelvis slowly, the nuzzling on my neck becoming more intense as I slowly started to move my finger inside of her. I rubbed her clit with my thumb and felt her whole body tense against me, her breathing shallow and rapid.
“Oh my god,” she groaned.
Had she even gotten this far with that emo boyfriend of hers? Probably not. I could tell by the way her pussy muscles were contracting against my finger that she was actually close to coming, and that all I needed to do was rub that clit a little more, swirl my finger around inside of her and I’d have her really writhing, but I stopped, and pulled my hand back, reaching for my jeans.
If she was going to come, I wanted it to be while I was fucking her.
“Wait, why did you stop?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes flying open.
I pulled the condom wrapper out of my wallet, tore it open, slid it down over me. No fucking way was I taking any more chances like I did with Annie, even though I knew just how fantastic it would feel to do Daisy bareback right now.
“Shift over a little,” I said. “So you’re on your back. Yeah, just like that.”
She spread her legs, and I positioned myself between them, my knees on either side of her, holding the rest of my weight up with my forearms. With the condom on, it was harder to feel where she was, but after a couple tries, the head of my cock was right there, gently pushing into her.
“Just relax,” I murmured, feeling her tense up again, but not because she was turned on. She was letting the thoughts tumble in, I knew, letting herself forget about the physical sensation of it all, her focus going to the fact that this was it, she was about to lose her virginity. She probably thought it was going to hurt. Maybe it would; but I would try to make it so it didn’t.
“There you go,” I said as she exhaled slowly. I pushed in a little further, then a little more. She was so wet that it was easy to get the head of my cock in, and once that was in, I pushed in the rest of the way. We lay there like that, neither of us moving, for a few seconds. I looked down at her. “You all right?”
She nodded, so I started moving my hips slowly. Her hands went around my back, and her fingernails raked jagged trails up and down. Ah. She was nice and tight; she fit me like a glove. I let my eyes close as she wrapped her legs around me, her back arching slightly, allowing my dick to get even further. A warm buzzing that had started in my balls was radiating outward, up my spine, into my brain, short circuiting everything up there except for the ability to feel sensation. I started to move faster, both of us groaning, her groans turning into shouts, mine into growls. I pressed my face against her neck and squeezed my eyes shut. She let out a scream; her whole body tensed then relaxed, her limbs twitched. A groan rose up in my throat as I came, and it was actually happening a lot sooner than I thought, but she was so hot, and she felt so good, that there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Chapter Sixteen
Daisy
I was no longer a virgin.
In a way, I expected something to have changed about me, something that other people would be able to notice. That I’d look different or something, though of course that was not the case at all. Well, I looked more tired, maybe, since Ian and I had been up most of the night having sex, then spent most of Sunday together, doing the same. My inner thighs were so sore, but in a good way.
When Caroline texted and asked me if I wanted to meet up at Failte after I got out of work, I said yes. Ian had left early because he had a meeting with a manager at a big petrochemical plant, somewhere out near Worcester, who was looking to switch security firms.
When I got to Failte, she was sitting at one of the small tables, with two bottles of IPA.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a drink,” she said.
“Awesome, thank you,” I said as I slid onto the smooth wooden chair. I was trying to contain my grin but not doing a very good job of it. She looked toward the door. “Ian’s not here with you?”
“No, he’s at a meeting. Well, he might be done with it now, but it was out in Central Mass.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“So,” I said. “What’d you think? Isn’t he great?”
She didn’t say anything right away, but then just shook her head. “Sorry, Daisy,” she said finally. “I just didn’t like him.”
For a second, I thought she was joking. But then she continued. “I really don’t think he should be the one you lose your virginity to.”
I tried to keep my face neutral. I took a sip of my beer. “Really? Why?”
“I just . . . don’t.” She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I’d really thought she’d like him, and the fact that she seemed so against him was quite surprising. “What is it you don’t like about him?” She’d been right there at the table—hadn’t she been able to see that magnetism between us? A complete stranger had—surely she had been able to, too! “And are you being serious right now?” I asked. “I thought you guys really seemed to hit it off. You were laughing at what he said. You were making jokes with him.”
“I was trying to be nice. And what jokes?”
“The joke about the wasabi?” That was the only one I could remember right then, but I knew there had been more.
“That wasn’t a joke,” she said. “Though I think he took it as one.”
“So you really did
n’t like him.”
She shook her head. “Honestly? I liked Billy better. And he seemed into you.”
“But I don’t like him like that. What didn’t you like about Ian?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “He just . . . he just seemed kind of arrogant, I guess. But subtly. Not like some grandiose, showboating asshole, which maybe would make things easier. It was really subtle, and at first I wasn’t even sure why I didn’t like him, because you’re right—he’s hot as fuck, but he’s also arrogant as fuck. And kind of possessive. You guys aren’t even going out.”
“He didn’t seem that possessive. And . . . we kind of are.”
She winced. “What?”
“We haven’t talked about it or anything, but one of the girls that was sitting near us, she came out of the bathroom when I was in there and she asked me if Ian was my boyfriend. It kind of caught me off guard, actually, but I said he was.”
Caroline sighed. “Just because you say he is to some person you don’t even know doesn’t mean he actually is. And if you guys haven’t talked about it yet, then I think you should just run the other direction, while you still can.”
“Run in the other direction?” I said with a laugh. “I work with him, Caro. He’s my boss. It doesn’t matter what direction I run—I’ll just be seeing him again next time I go back to work.”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, “that’s the other thing. Don’t you think it’s a little weird to get involved with your boss? Isn’t that against some policy or something? Or just a bad idea, career-wise?”
“It’s not maybe the most . . . orthodox thing ever,” I said, “but I certainly wouldn’t be the first person to ever get involved with her boss. And besides, the whole thing is very exciting. I feel like I deserve some—good—excitement in my life after this whole thing with Noah.”
“No one deserves something like that thing with Noah.”
“So maybe he’ll leave me alone if I’m with someone else. That will be the way he gets it through his head.
I left Failte feeling confused and very much like the wind had been taken out of my sails. I’d been practically skipping down the street to get here, thinking that I could finally tell Caroline that it had happened—I was no longer a virgin!—but I had ended up leaving without having said a word of that.
I was still thinking about this as I walked up to my apartment, digging for my keys out of my purse. How was Caroline going to react when I told her—
“Daisy.”
I froze. It was Noah.
“What are you doing?” I said. He was sitting on the front steps of my building; there was no way that I could sneak past him. He stood up and took a step toward me.
“Daisy,” he said, a relieved smile crossing his face. “Daisy, where have you been? Your car was here, but you weren’t, and then I saw some taxi pull up and you got out with some guy. Who was that?”
If he was saying that he saw me get out of a taxi with Ian, then that meant he was here Saturday night. “You were here on Saturday?” I said.
“I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d swing by and see if you were home. And, as I said, I saw your car, so I figured you’d be there. I know you haven’t gotten your phone issues resolved yet, because you still haven’t responded to any of my messages, but that’s okay. I’m around here a lot, so it’s easy enough to just stop over.”
“Yeah, except it’s usually considered good manners to give a little bit of notice first, isn’t it?”
“So. How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine. But I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t be hanging out on my doorstep when I get home. It’s . . . it’s weird, okay? You just need to stop all of this, Noah. Please. You seem like a nice guy; I’m sure there’s a girl out there who would really be able to appreciate that. I’m certainly not the only girl in the world, you know.”
“I know you’re not,” he said. “And that’s what makes this so special. With so many people in the world, the fact that we finally found each other is . . . well, it’s amazing. I just need to help you see it.”
“No, you don’t.” I felt emboldened. Also, I felt pretty sick of his shit. I wanted this to stop. It had gone on for long enough. “This needs to stop, Noah. I’ve been trying to be nice to you, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re really not getting it through your head. You’re not hearing me. I am not interested in you. I’m not! I have a boyfriend, actually. That’s the guy you saw me getting out of the cab with. So I need you to leave me alone. Get on with your life, because you’re just wasting your time on me. We’re not going to be together. I’m not sure what gave you the idea that we would, but it’s not going to happen, okay? And if you don’t stop showing up at my place and following me around, I’m going to have to call the police. Which I don’t want to do, but I will, because it really feels like you’re leaving me no choice.”
He kept his eyes on me the whole time, his face blank. But then, when he was sure I was done speaking, his face broke out into a grin.
“I know you don’t mean that,” he said.
“No, but I do. I mean exactly that. I should have told you this a while ago. I’m going inside now. And if I look out the window and see that you’re still here, I’m calling the police.”
I marched past him, my keys in hand. Isn’t that what they said to do in women’s safety classes—carry your keys in your hand when you were walking alone or through a parking lot at night? Just feeling the cool metal in my hand calmed me a little, though I doubted I’d really be able to stab Noah’s eye out or something with them, if he were to lunge at me. But he didn’t; he simply stood there as I walked past, and I could feel his gaze boring into me as I hurried to unlock the front door.
I didn’t turn around to look when I finally got the door unlocked, but I quickly slipped in and slammed it shut behind me. It was a heavy door, and part of me was expecting that his arm was going to snake through at the last second before it shut, but it didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief and then walked through the small lobby to my own door. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was he completely undeterred by everything that I said?
When my mother called the next evening, I felt for sure it was because she had some sort of sixth sense about my virginity, and she knew that I had lost it. Usually, more time elapsed between our interactions, especially when they ended as they had the last time we met up.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to keep the weariness out of my voice as much as I could.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m good.”
“Am I interrupting your work? If I am, I’ll call back at another time.”
I glanced at my laptop, which I’d placed next to me on the couch to answer the phone. Yes, I’d just been using it—no, it hadn’t been to work on any writing. I was on Facebook, looking at Ian’s profile, scrolling through pictures, wondering if I should friend him or not. Since we were sleeping together, the obvious answer seemed yes, but I wasn’t sure since we were keeping things hush-hush.
“No, you’re not interrupting anything,” I said. “How are you?”
“Quite good, thank you. I was just working on my own manuscript, as a matter of fact, but thought I’d take a little break to give you a call. I’ve really found momentum to be the key to productivity, but everyone needs a break now and then, right?”
“Sure,” I said. “Glad to hear your writing is going so well.”
“So everything is good with you? Have you resolved any of those issues that you brought up the last time we got together?”
“If you’re asking whether I’ve quit my job or not, the answer is no. And I still have a stalker, and yes, I’m still considering moving.”
“Well, do you remember how I mentioned that my colleague was writing a book about the quarter-life crisis? We were talking a little bit about your situation, and he said that he’d be more than happy to discuss things with you. He’s learned quite a bit fro
m the research he’s conducted, and I think it would be great if you would get in touch with him and set up a time to meet.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I said. “Listen, Mom, I am actually kind of busy right now, so I think I better go. If you want to meet up for coffee or something, maybe we can do that.”
“That might be nice,” she said. “My schedule’s pretty busy though. So I don’t want to set anything up yet, but I’ll get back to you. And if you change your mind about Carl and letting him talk to you, just let me know! I think it’d be really good for you. Very helpful. Beneficial. Extremely—”
“Okay, Mom, I get it,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later. Good luck with your writing.”
“Same to you!” she said, a little too jovially.
I tried not to roll my eyes when I hung up the phone. Sometimes my mother felt more like a competitive sister than a mother. Part of me was just dying to call her back and say I just lost my virginity to the hottest guy you have ever seen! but that would just start a whole conversation I didn’t want to have with her.
And besides. Things were actually going really well for me. Aside from the fact that I still had a stalker, I could not remember a time when I’d been happier. Having sex had suddenly made the world seem like a whole different place, so much more exciting, so many more possibilities.
Chapter Seventeen
Ian
The next morning I was distracted, thinking about Daisy, as I was getting ready for work. I was sitting there at the breakfast table, eating a bowl of cereal, replaying the sex in my mind. It had been hard to wait, that day we went out on the boat—I’d wanted to do her right then and there—but I was big into delayed gratification, so I made her wait. And it had been worth it. More than worth it. It was, of course, making myself wait, too, and my dick had been at about half mast ever since, her being the only thing that I could really think about. That’s exactly what I was thinking about when my phone started going off; I reached over and picked it up without looking at the screen.