by Tara Sivec
"Seriously, Liz, you have some great products for sale. I can't wait to try out the rest of the stuff I bought. What about you, Claire? Did you get some alone time yet with all the toys everyone bought you tonight?" she said with a wink and a wag of her eyebrows.
"Wait, the girls at the party bought you vibrators?" Liz questioned, suddenly forgetting about the fact that everyone was supposed to be thinking of something other than my down-there-place.
"Nope, this isn't at all uncomfortable. Thanks for asking," I said under my breath, with a roll of my eyes.
"Can we go back to what Jenny was saying? I'd like some more details about her alone time: location, mood lighting, standing up or sitting down and if she’s in need of a spotter next time. I have excellent upper body strength," Drew said with a wink as he recovered from having noodles lodged in his windpipe.
"Eeew," I muttered.
"So you really sell sex toys?" Carter said to me with a dreamy look in his eyes as he leaned in my direction with his elbows resting on the table.
I could feel my face heating up. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with him of all people. I was trying to figure out a way to tell him his love mayonnaise had mad skills and no one at this table could stop talking about vibrators.
"Technically, she doesn't sell them. She's just doing it as a favor to me," Liz chimed in, saving me from trying to explain. "We’re starting up a business together. I'm selling sex toys and she'll sell cookies and candies."
"I like sex and….caaaaandy yeeaaahhh," Drew sang, completely fucking up the words to the song.
"Oh, so in answer to your question Liz—yes!" Jenny said over top of Drew’s poor rendition of the sex and candy song. "Everyone tonight bought Claire a vibrator! How many did you end up with? Eleven?" Jenny asked. "I still can't believe you have never used one on yourself. That's just insanity right there. No orgasm comes close to the ones you can have with one of those puppies."
This was not happening right now. This was a dream wasn't it? Like one of those where you're in front of your entire high school naked and everyone is pointing at you and laughing. Except this time, I'm lying on the dining room table naked and everyone is pointing dildos at me.
"Oh my gosh, I know right?" Liz agreed, leaning forward so she could see around me. "I can have multiple orgasms in seconds with the Jack Rabbit."
Liz was a traitor. Benedict Liz. That's what I was calling her from now on. Fucking Benedict Liz.
"No offense baby," she said sheepishly to Jim.
"None take, love. As long as you get off, I'm happy," he said with a smile as he leaned over and kissed her shoulder.
"Claire, you absolutely have to go home tonight and use the Jack Rabbit. And then call me immediately after and give me a report," Jenny said excitedly.
"No, she shouldn't go with JR her first time out of the gate, that will scar her for life. She needs to ease herself into using toys. Did anyone buy you a bullet?" Liz asked casually with a glance in my direction. "A bullet is the best bet for your first time. It's small, doesn't make a lot of noise but it's powerful as shit," Liz explained. “It will take you thirty seconds, tops.”
Are these people seriously discussing how I should give myself an orgasm at the dinner table like they were discussing the directions for putting together a book shelf? Insert slot A into your vagina and twist. What the fuck is happening right now?!
"Sorry," I said to Carter. "My vagina usually isn’t dinner topic conversation."
He was the only one that heard me since everyone else at the table was…fuck! Still talking about my God damned vagina.
“Maybe she should use the blue dolphin. It’s so cute with its bottle nose and adorable little eyes and fin! She could make up a whole story about it swimming up her channel!” Jenny proclaimed.
Carter laughed and gave me a reassuring smile and for some strange reason I wanted to climb over the table and lick his mouth.
"Alright, now I'm curious. Bullets, rabbits, dolphins…are we still talking about vibrators or are you freaky people into bestiality? I want to see these things and what they can do. Claire, go out to your car and bring them in," Drew said as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "This thing has a video camera on it somewhere…" he trailed off, pushing a bunch of buttons.
"Um, no. I am not bringing in vibrators that I have neither confirmed nor denied to receiving. So shut up and eat your dinner, all of you."
"Too bad that Max guy didn't have a bullet on him. You could have at least gotten off before his dad came home," Jenny laughed.
"Ooooh, is this the guy you were talking about when you walked in the door? What happened?" Drew asked, momentarily forgetting about filming amateur porn on his cell phone.
"No. Absolutely not," I protested.
“Come on, Claire, it’s no big deal, just answer it,” Jenny begged with a laugh.
“Come on, Claire,” Drew argued while I sat there with my arms folded glaring at him.
“Answer the question, Claire!” Drew and Jenny said sternly at the same time while trying to reign in their laughter.
“Yeah, because I’ve never heard the Breakfast Club reference before,” I muttered.
"Awww, don't feel bad, Claire. Everyone's got an embarrassing sex experience. Hell, Carter here had sex with a virgin when he was drunk one time in college and never found out her name."
Somewhere in heaven, baby Jesus is weeping. Or maybe that’s just me and the sound of my dignity dying. I'm sure Jim, Liz and I looked like we just witnessed a horrific car accident. And technically, we kind of did. I felt like blocking off the table with crime scene tape. "Keep it movin' folks, there's nothing to see here - just my self-respect being flushed down the crapper."
I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing and Liz smacked Jim in the chest so he’d close his mouth which was currently stuck in the “holy shit, did that just happen?!” wide open position. I wondered for a minute if this whole thing was one big elaborate plan to trip me up and get me to confess and that everyone at the table was in on it. My eyes glanced over to Carter to see his reaction and he looked embarrassed, not like he wanted to wring my neck for keeping a secret from him that he knew and he knew that I knew that he knew.
Aaaaack!
I started tapping my foot nervously, my leg bouncing up and down. Liz reached over under the table and put her hand on my knee.
"Drew, Jesus, man," Carter muttered, shaking his head.
"Claire…"
I interrupted Liz. She was giving me a look that clearly said now was a perfect opportunity to come clean, but I wasn't ready for that yet. This was not something you blurted across the table in front of people. Instead, I let the word vomit flow.
"So, I used to work with this guy Max at the bar. We were pretty good friends and seemed to have a lot in common.”
I conveniently skipped over the part that our primary mutual interest was that we were both single parents at the time.
“We tried to tack on a friend with benefits thing a few years ago. His recently widowed father had just retired and moved in to the apartment above his garage. It was the middle of summer and we were all in the house watching a movie. His dad decides to get up and go fishing for a few hours. So, he leaves and we start going at it on the couch."
Everyone at the table stopped eating and stared at me as the story flew from my mouth in one long, continuous run-on sentence.
I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm covering up one humiliation with another.
"So, we're naked from the waist down and he dives right in. Exactly two seconds later, the front door opens and in walks his dad. He's too busy trying to get through the door with a fishing rod and a tackle box that he doesn't notice us scrambling around on the couch trying to throw a blanket over the bottom half of us."
Drew’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter, Carter looked sorry for me and everyone else just nodded their heads up and down since they had heard this story before.
"So, his dad w
alks right into the living room, sits down in the middle of the floor with his back to us and starts organizing his tackle box and rambling to us about how the lake was closed for fishing. Meanwhile, we're under a heavy, wool blanket on the couch behind him in the middle of July."
"Totally not suspicious at all," Carter joked.
I finally looked at him and when I realized he wasn’t outright laughing at me, I took a deep breath to go on.
"Yeah, not at all considering Max didn't have air conditioning and it was about ninety-eight degrees out that day."
Drew shook his head in amusement. "So what the hell did you do?"
"Well, I sat there horrified and Max started digging in the couch cushions for his boxers. The more he dug, the more the blanket was threatening to get pulled right off of my naked lap. I was holding on to that thing for dear life while his dad continued to mumble about lures and bait three feet in front of us. Max finally finds his boxers and shorts and starts shimmying into them under the blanket. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to hang onto the blanket and dig for my underwear at the same time, but can't find them anywhere. I found my shorts though so I yank those on and almost scream in victory when Max flings the blanket off of our lap because I was sweating my ass off under that thing."
Everyone was thoroughly amused by my story, and I didn't mind too much at this point since they weren't talking about me getting myself off or Carter’s cherry popping blunder.
"You're forgetting the best part, Claire," Jim reminded me.
"Oh yeah. So when Max yanked the blanket off of us, my underwear must have been stuck somewhere in there. It went flying through the air and hit his dad in the back of the head."
"So what did you do?" Carter asked.
"I did what any self-respecting, grown woman would do when faced with a situation like that. I stood up, ran like hell out of that house and pretended like it never happened."
***
The rest of the night went pretty well, aside from the wide-eyed looks and head nods in Carter’s direction Liz kept shooting me every couple of minutes when there was a lull in the conversation. She seriously expected me to just blurt this shit out in between courses in front of everyone. “Why yes, this apple pie is delicious. Did you know apple comes from the Latin word alum, which means you knocked me up?”
We finished dinner and Liz made the men do the dishes so she, Jenny and I could start brainstorming some names for the business. We had it narrowed down to three that we loved and couldn't decide between. And then the guys joined us and the suggestions immediately went in the gutter. It’s amazing, really, how quickly they can go from zero to filthy.
Plastic Penises and Pastries.
Cocks and Cookies.
Sex and Candy (I'll give you one guess who suggested that one.)
Lubes and Lady Fingers.
Cock Rings and Confectioneries.
I sat on the couch the entire time pretending to pay attention but all I could do was stare at Carter. Every time he smiled I felt like someone punched me in the stomach which was just stupid. I didn't even know him. He was a one-night-stand.
A one-night-stand I felt comfortable enough with to give him one of the most important gifts a girl has to give and the little time I spent with him was enough to create a lasting memory of how alike the two of us were. It was also enough time to create another lasting memory that I’ve had to love, nurture and mold all by myself into something that I hope resembles a well-behaved child and will not need years of therapy due to my parenting skills.
None of the similarities in our personalities or how attracted I was to him then and now has any bearing on this moment, though. As soon as I tell him he’s a father and has a four-and-a-half year old son, he was probably going to hate me. At least I had nine months to get used to the idea. What single, gorgeous man in his twenties wanted to be told he was now saddled with the giant responsibility of a kid for the rest of his life?
He was going to head for the hills when I told him. He was going to scream, turn and run. Like one of those cartoon characters that go charging through a door and all you see is a giant hole in the wood shaped like them running. I needed to just prepare myself for that. And it wasn't like I could blame him. It was a completely insane situation that no one in their right mind would ever believe. Gavin and I did quite well on our own so far anyways. You couldn't miss something you never had. If he chose to never speak to us again, so be it.
So why did the thought of that suddenly make me sad?
I glanced at my watch and realized it was almost ten o'clock. I needed to get home and relieve my dad of babysitting duty.
"Hey, where are you off to? It's not even ten yet," Drew said as I stood up from the couch and started moving to the foyer to grab my coat.
"Sorry, I need to get home to Ga…et some laundry finished," I said, stumbling over my words.
Dammit, I almost said Gavin. I am a chicken-shit. I should have just said it and gotten it over with. Liz winced at my almost-slip and Jim coughed.
"I'll call you tomorrow and we can go over a few more things," Liz said with a raise of her eyebrows.
I know by "go over a few more things" she meant that she was going to beat the shit out of me for not saying something to Carter tonight.
Super, looking forward to it.
I waved good-bye to everyone and quickly walked out into the foyer. I had just gotten my coat on when Carter came rushing around the corner.
"Hey, I'll walk you out to your car," he said as he opened the front door for me with a smile.
I stood there like an idiot, just staring at him. I should tell him. Right now, while we’re out here alone.
Hey, you don't remember me, but I’m the one whose virginity you took five years ago and well, guess what? It's a boy!
I couldn’t do it. I broke my stare and walked out the door, rushing down the steps to my car and putting as much distance between us as I could. Didn’t Liz say that Carter mentioned to Jim something about his “mystery girl” smelling like chocolate? I didn’t need him putting the connection together. Not now. I needed more time. I needed to figure out what to say and find out what kind of guy he really was. Did he even want children? Did he plan on staying in town for long or was he going to put in for another transfer? Maybe he already had six other children spread around the world that he didn’t support. Oh God, what if he decides he wants to be a father to Gavin and sticks around, then something happens to all the mothers of his illegitimate children and suddenly he gets custody of them and we have not one but seven children? And they all hate us because we were never there for them and Gavin turns to life on the streets and turning tricks for crack because a homeless guy named Fromunda Cheese told him crack ISN’T whack. I needed more time. I needed to formulate a plan that kept Gavin out of the hood. I also needed to calm down. It’s not like Carter was begging for my attention or asking to see me again. He was being nice and walking me to my car. End of story.
Carter followed right behind me and stopped by the hood as I opened the door and turned to face him.
"I'd like to see you again, Claire," he said softly.
"Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw," I muttered as I stood there with the car door open.
His mouth dropped open and for a second I thought I saw recognition flash across his face.
Shit, I just quoted Heathers. I didn't even realize what I was saying. The non-bat-shit crazy part of me willed him to remember, to put two and two together and realize that I was the girl from the frat party. Jesus, we’d practically acted out the entire movie while we played beer pong. We traded quotes back and forth until our sides ached from laughing. But his silence proved that whatever memories he may have had about me were still locked up tight in the far recesses of his mind.
"Call me. Liz can give you my number," I blurted before I could change my mind. I scrambled into the car, started it up and pulled quickly out of the driveway, glancing into the rearview mirror to see Carter, still standing in t
he driveway, get smaller and smaller as I drove away.
10. Seduction and Snacks…and Snafu's
I couldn't stop staring at Claire all through dinner. I felt bad that everyone seemed to be picking on her, but she was so adorable when she got embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed pink and she looked down at her lap and tugged on her left ear lobe.
Jesus, I just used the word adorable like I was talking about a fucking puppy. Wait, that didn't sound right. Although if she was a puppy, she'd probably be fucking something because she's so hot. So in reality, she would be a fucking puppy. I mean come on, what dog wouldn't want to tap that ass? I need to stop watching Animal Planet. Claire is not a puppy - one that fucks or one that doesn't. Period.
I had a hard time finishing my dinner. The lasagna was amazing, but all I could think about was Claire pleasuring herself with a vibrator.
Or her hand.
Or a vibrator and her hand.
Or a vibrator and her hand and my hand.
Well, hello there, Mr. Hard-on.
I clearly had issues when it came to this woman I just met. Part of me wanted to rip that guy Max’s head off just because he got to touch her, kiss her and be inside her. But when she was finished with the story, I just wanted to find him so I could point and laugh at him. What kind of a douche tried to have sex with a woman on his couch with his daddy living there, coming and going as he pleases? Real smooth there, buddy. I stopped being jealous of the guy at that point. Now, all I wanted to do was show her how a real man should act. I had an irrational need to show her everything she'd been missing.
Right, because I am the king of all things sexual. My penis can make grown women weep in the streets.
Things got silly as the men drank more beer and the women tried thinking up business names for Liz and Claire’s place. I didn't know why they shot down "Candy-Coated Cunnilingus." That was brilliant. And it made me think of sucking on a Jolly Rancher, brushing the wet piece of candy between Claire’s legs and then sliding my tongue along candy trail.
Then I remembered the one time in middle school when I put a half-eaten Jolly Rancher on my dresser and somehow it fell into one of the drawers. Three socks, a pencil and a G.I. Joe guy were stuck to it when I found it a month later.