by Erin Mallon
“Well… currently, she seems to be chomping into the tail of the other one. The, uh…”
“He’s an Edmontosaurus,” I explain. “His name is Monty. I think they were in love.”
“Really?”
“Big time.”
“I mean, it looks like she’s trying to eat him.”
“Sure, at first glance, but love should have some teeth, shouldn’t it? Some bite? I wouldn’t say this in my meetings with the team because they’d probably think I’m a ridiculous child-woman who’s seen and read way to many romance stories, but yeah, I think Trix and Monty were in the throes of a beautiful, though sometimes angsty, love affair—I mean, we are talking about a tyrannosaur and a hadrosaur after all—when your bastard of an asteroid came along and wiped them out, sweeping them under the volcanic debris, their physical lives ended, but their love enduring for all eternity.”
“Damn, okay. I’m in. I buy it.”
“And look at her! So badass! So out of fucks! So in her own power! She doesn’t give a shit how a lady dinosaur should behave. She is who she is, and she doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it. I’m sure she never apologized for her fantasies. Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”
“Are you like… disappointed about that?”
“Yeah.”
“Care to explain?”
“I shouldn’t have to, but fine. Male virgins are fascinating. And romantic as hell. So many dudes have the lady virgin fantasy, but for some reason, we ladies aren’t supposed to have the dude virgin fantasy.”
“But you do? Have the dude virgin fantasy?”
“Oh, yeah. I grew up super religious. I guess that whole saving yourself thing is hard to shake.”
“But you just told me you didn’t save yourself, right?”
“Hell no, dude! What am I, crazy?” Then I think better of what I just said. “But it’s not like I… I mean, I didn’t like not save myself a lot.”
“Huh?”
I’m on my feet now.
“You’re right, that was terrible English. I just meant… no, I did not save myself, but it’s not like I went buck wild or anything. Not that it’s anyone’s business how wild or un-wild my bucking was! Ugh. I didn’t mean the nature of the bucking, so much as the regularity of the bucking and the variety of partners with whom I bucked.”
“Okay.”
“For the record, the regularity was infrequent, and the partners were few.”
“Okay.”
“But as I said, it’s no one’s business.”
“It’s certainly not. Hence… the reason I did not ask you to expand on this subject.”
“Good. Keep it that way. Because I made the mistake of asking someone to expand on this particular subject once, and it was extremely uncomfortable. For him mostly, but for me too. In my defense, I was super young and inexperienced. I’d been with the same guy throughout late high school and early college and basically had my first everythings with him. You know how that goes. Then we break up, and I meet this older guy from Belgium. First of all, he scared the shit out of me with his uncircumcised penis—”
“He scared you with it? How did he scare you with it?”
“Well… you know… by having one.”
“Fair enough.”
Ralph remains sitting on the floor, leaning comfortably back on both hands, watching me pontificate with undisguised amusement.
“Then I asked him how many people he’d been with, thinking I was being so grown-up and cosmopolitan. And the dude’s face completely falls. He says are you really asking me that question? I said nope, I’m not, and I proceeded to do my very best with his terrifying turtlenecked member.”
“I’m a little confused as to why you are telling me this story.”
“Are you really, though? Get on your feet,” I say in an intentionally husky voice. He obeys and stands but looks as puzzled as ever. Gosh, between my antics with the badge and the suggestive tone of my voice, it’s like this guy doesn’t recognize a sexy seduction when he sees one. Guess I gotta help him out.
“Well, yeah, I am confused because—”
But I don’t let him finish. I choose that moment to leap upon him like my friend Trix over there would do and sink my teeth into his neck.
“Yow!” he cries out.
“Oh! That hurt?”
“Yes? Sort of?”
“Good hurt or bad hurt?
“Uhhhhhhhhh… interesting hurt.”
“Thank you for your feedback. Okay, I’ll ease up a bit. How’s this adjustment?”
I give him more of a nibble this time and less of a bite.
“That’s, uh… yeah, that’s…” He can’t complete his sentence and ends on a moan when I continue my gentle nips and sucks at his neck.
Aw, he likes it. Yay, I’m doing a good job! I look over at Trix, and she gives me a thumbs-up! I love her. Encouragement from your peers is so important. For the record, Tyrannosaurs don’t actually have thumbs, though. Nope, they only have two fingers on each hand. So her thumbs-up looks more like she’s doing the universal sign for wait a second, but girls like her and me? We understand each other.
Ralph slips his hand under my shirt.
“Oh, you’re right,” he says.
“About what?” I breathe.
“The left one is bigger than the right.”
“Told you,” I pant.
“I like knowing that information about you. I want to know all the information about you.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
Wow, screwing a scientist is super cool. So curious. So willing to explore. I take the opportunity to see if his claims are also true and drop my hand down his pants.
“Wowza!” he yelps.
“You like?”
“I think so? You are just… not a subtle person, are you? Like at all.”
“Subtlety is stupid.”
I swirl my hand around in there and come to my conclusion. Yup, his assessment was also accurate.
“This is weird,” he says while kissing down my neck. “What we’re doing is really weird.”
“I know, right?” I respond in excitement.
“What’s even weirder, though,” he continues, “is that it’s like so… not sexy that it’s actually really…
“Sexy!” I answer for him.
“Exactly!”
I high-five him with my free hand while the other one stays busy. He laughs and starts to pull my shirt over my head but then stops.
“Wait. Should we…? I feel like we shouldn’t be doing this in here.”
“Yes! We should. The door is locked, and everyone is asleep. Sleeping people don’t need chaperoning.”
“True. I just mean we could get caught.”
“Nope! I’m the only one here tonight who has access to this room besides security guard Jerry, of course, but he’s stationed at the front for the rest of the night. And they’re not even installing security cameras in this room until tomorrow. It’s on Dr. Knowles’ calendar.”
“For real?” Ralph says, hopefully.
“For realsies, boo.”
“You called me boo.”
“Sure did. Wha-pow!”
With one ‘wha-pow!’ I’ve shucked the man’s pants down to his ankles, and… I kind of can’t believe the miracle I’m seeing.
“Holy shit! HAS THAT BEEN IN THERE THIS WHOLE TIME?!”
He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, and I back up a few feet to fully appreciate the spectacular view.
“Uh. Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you say something?!”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe something like ‘Hey, Calliope, just so you’re aware, I’m packing some serious schlong inside these sensible khakis.’ That
would’ve worked.”
“Do people actually say the word schlong?”
“WHEN THEY SEE SOMETHING LIKE THAT THEY DO!” Gee-zus! How can you be so, so…?”
“So…?”
“Humble!?”
“Aw, thank you. You’re so sweet.”
“What I am is terrified.”
“Really?”
“Hell no, let’s do this!”
I full-on sprint into his arms.
“Oof.” He exhales, but he doesn’t seem to be complaining.
We start kissing and touching like it’s our job. It’s not, obviously, but I will tell you, there is something really hot and exciting about kissing and touching at our job.
Man, this is so fun! Is sex supposed to be this fun? I’m realizing we’re not actually having sex yet, but clearly, that’s where things are headed, right? Oh, if Sister Marta could see me now! About to have sexual relations not only outside the bonds of holy matrimony but also surrounded by prehistoric creatures whose mere existence proves that evolution is not a blasphemous theory, but a straight-up fact? Suck it, Marta! Yeah, I’m pretty sure her habit would fly right off her head.
“Hey. Are you with me?” Ralph says between kisses.
“Hundred percent, yes! Sorry. I was just thinking about my high school theology teacher.”
“Then I’m clearly doing this wrong.”
“Nope! You’re perfect. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“You’re weird as hell. And I fucking love it.”
I strip off my own pants and make a move to straddle jump him.
“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he says.
Obeying, I grab his cock with both hands and pretend I’m swinging from it.
“Ohhhhh-oh-uh-ohhhh-ohhhhhhh!” That was my attempt at a Tarzan yell.
He freezes and looks down at me.
“What are you doing?”
“You said hold on.”
“Like… for a moment. Not to my dick.”
“Oh. Honest mistake.”
“Are you sure you’ve done this before? Because you’re starting to scare me.”
“Yes,” I say as I run my hands through his hair. “I swear on my life. Done it a whole bunch. There was Dan Patten, my high school boyfriend. He was my first, so you know, not so great. Then the Belgian exchange student guy I already told you about. Then Jimmy Lyons after my college freshman formal, oh gosh, and then Ron Warner for a solid two weeks during junior year, and ooooooh, then when I went abroad last spring to work on my thesis, of course, there was Jorge, and Jorge was—”
“Got it. I got it. No need for a full recap.”
“Alright, you asked, so.”
“Right. I won’t be doing that again.”
“Okay!” I say cheerily.
Then I realize why he asked me to hold on when he pulls a small square out of his wallet.
“Ooooh, it’s The Condom Moment. Hooray!” I clap my hands.
“The Condom Moment?”
“Yes. The Condom Moment can be so damn dramatic.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“In romance novels, dude!” I say like it’s obvious.
“Oh. Can’t say I really read romance novels.”
“Me either! They’re total crap!” I blurt, completely negating my statement from a moment ago.
“This is the second time this topic has come up. Calliope, you do know it’s okay if you read romance novels, right?”
“I DON’T, THOUGH! GOSH!”
“Okay. Fine. You don’t.” He holds his hands up in defense, the foil packet glimmering in the dim light of the exhibit hall.
“However, my mother? My mother’s shelves are packed with them and always have been. It’s embarrassing. When I was a kid, I used to sneak them into my room when she wasn’t looking and flip through to find the naughty parts, and let me tell you, The Condom Moment is always a hoot!”
“How’s that?”
I’m about to tell him, but then I think better of it.
“You know what? I took a novel-writing class once, and they said over and over again ‘show, don’t tell.’ So let’s continue with the proceedings, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
“Are you writing a novel right this second? Because I’m not sure I want—”
“Ugh!” I slap him across the face.
“Whoa! What are you—”
“How dare you whip out a condom! Did you plan on having sex with me? What kind of girl do you think I am!”
“I don’t know… the kind that maybe doesn’t want to get pregnant?”
“Aw, you look so confused! Don’t worry,” I whisper, “we’re role-playing as if we’re in a romance novel. Did I slap you too hard? I’m sorry about that.”
“Slap was fine, but why are we role-playing though? And no offense, but this doesn’t seem like a very good romance novel you’re improvising—”
“Quick! Now pretend you’re pulling the condom out of your nightstand! Then watch me get really mad.”
“Do you have a theater background or something I should know about?”
“Sort of. Summer camp shows,” I rush out. “Now, do it! Pretend you’re pulling a condom out of your drawer!”
“Oh, I’m pulling a condom out of my drawer. I bought these condoms at the store,” he sing-songs, busting out some spur-of-the-moment rhyme and some impressive pantomime.
“Damn! You’re good at this!” I can’t help it; I break character to deliver the compliment.
“Thanks!” He launches right back in. “It would be great if she’s a whore and lets me put it in her back door!” he says with glee.
“Alright now, that was just offensive.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“You do realize you took that too far, right?”
“Totally. Yeah. I can see that now.”
“Good. Because a woman has every right to do whatever the hell she wants with her back door. And whatever choice she makes on that front does not pave the way for any man, or woman for that matter, to call her derogatory names.”
“I know that! You’re just freaking me out with this stuff, and I’m not quite sure how you want me to participate. Can we stop this now? And just, I dunno, be ourselves?”
“Sure. Yeah, of course. I was just trying to prove an interesting point.”
“Were you? I’ve sort of lost track of any points being made.”
“Just that a guy can’t win when it comes to The Condom Moment.”
“Clearly,” he says on a half laugh half mutter.
“He either gets dogged for being presumptuous when he has it in his wallet on a date, yelled at for keeping them in his nightstand because that means he’s a player, or called an irresponsible bastard if he goes without one and they end up sharing a skeevy disease and/or a skeevy baby.”
“Babies aren’t skeevy.”
“Ever met one?”
He sighs and slips his pants back on.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s happening? I thought we were doing this!”
“I thought we were too, but I’m standing here in full Donald Duck mode while we do improvisation exercises, review your mother’s reading preferences, and discuss diseases. So, the moment has definitely…” He looks down. “Dissipated.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. My fault?”
“I’m not usually one to pass blame, but… yes, definitely your fault.”
“Damn.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not, though.”
We sit down side by side for a moment in silence.
I look up, and Trix’s tiny little T-Rex arm makes a gesture that definitely means, “Go on, gurl.”
“Hm. Let me see if I might be able to…”
I slip my han
d gently down the front of his pants.
“And we’re back!” he shouts.
Game on.
Chapter Seventeen
“Morning, friends!” Mabel says cheerily.
“WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” I blurt at a volume way too loud for eight a.m. on a Sunday morning in a science museum cafeteria.
Ralph chuckles under his breath at my side, and calmly replies, “Good morning, Mabel.” Mabel waves wildly even though we’re standing right in front of her. “Otto.”
Otto salutes and grins, then says in a low tone, “How you doing, kid?”
“Fine. Why? Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you were high as hell on shrooms last night.”
“Shhhhhh! Can you just…! This is my place of… Can we actually not talk about this right now, please?”
Otto continues, “Kid, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Psychedelics are a beautiful thing. I truly believe if more of us engaged in fungal delights, our culture as a whole would be far more loving and accepting.”
“Gotcha, Otto, but I think it would be best if we just forgot about all the events that took place last night.”
“All the events that took place last night?” Ralph asks me with a pointed look.
“Ralph.” I lower my voice. “I can’t afford to lose my job.”
“No one is losing their job,” he says with confidence.
“Oh my gosh, who is losing their job?” Mabel croons.
“I repeat,” Ralph says firmly. “No one is losing their job. I am going to grab some breakfast. Calliope, can I get you something? Anyone?”
I peruse the offerings from a distance. Looks like single-serve Cheerios or floppy, thin French toast is the name of the game this morning.
“Nah, I’ll pass. Thank you.”
Otto pipes up. “You should probably eat a little something, kid. Sometimes after a trip, your body can be a little—”
“I said I’ll pass!” I say a bit too harshly. “I mean, thank you, Otto. Thank you, Ralph. But I’m fine.”
After one more look of concern, Ralph walks up to the cafeteria line. He immediately turns on a smile for the parents and kids he joins there.
I squeeze the muscles between my neck and shoulders with both hands. They’re hard as a rock. Even more so than usual.