by Lola StVil
“I’m not on a ride or anything—look, I think you should come back when Wyatt is home.”
“Oh sure, no big deal. Tell him I came by. Oh and you really are a lucky girl. Big heart and big, well you know…”
***
“Jana, stop that!” I scold as she howls with laughter. I look around the sex shop, and sure enough, people are staring at us.
“We are in a place where people seek out neon dicks and plastic buttholes, and we are the embarrassment. Stop laughing!” I reply, trying not to give in to the laughter myself.
“I’m sorry, I like this Shelby woman. She has no boundaries and from what you told me she was wearing, that bitch is rich. So yes, I like her.”
“It’s not funny. She was sure that Wyatt and I were having this passion-filled lust fest. Like he did with his past girlfriends.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is that we’ve just kissed,” I remind her as I stare at a vibrator in a pink box and try to figure out which way is up. She takes the box from me and turns it so that it’s facing the right way. “Oh,” I reply, clearly out of my depth. I frown and sit on the hot pink leather bench that runs along the length of the shop. Jana has been trying to get me to go with her to The Pleasure Chest for weeks now but I have been putting it off. But I came tonight in hopes that I might find my inner…sex maven.
“What’s wrong, Winnie?”
“I’m not crazy, I knew Wyatt had girls before me, I mean, look at him! But according to ‘Big mouth’ Shelby, he’s had mind-altering, out of this world sex with these women. How can I compete? I haven’t had sex in a year. I don’t even know if down there works anymore.”
“When he kisses you, you mean to tell me it doesn’t register there?” she asks suspiciously.
“Okay, yes: the phone rings but what if there’s no one there to answer it?”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means, he’s probably fucking great in bed and so were his past lovers. And now, he’s stuck with me. I have to make up for my lack of experience.”
“You want to make up for a year of no sex within a few hours? Isn’t that the main plot line of like every porn ever?”
“Haha! What do I do?”
“I love a good trip around the ‘lubes of the world’ and ‘vibrator R us’ like any girl. But a sex shop aisle isn’t the place you go to in order to feel more secure with your partner. It’s the place you two go to together, when you’re already secure with each other.”
“That means there’s no hope?”
“That means, go home and call your man. Talk to him. Nothing in this aisle is as sexy, thrilling, or mind-blowing as a real live man who wants nothing more than to please you. And you have that; make use of it. God knows I would,” she says, sounding somewhat distant.
“Jana?”
“Yeah,” she says as I pull her out of her thoughts.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Go. Seek out real men. And I’ll go seek out mango coconut lube.”
“Jana!”
“What?! I can’t afford a vacation right now, so this will give me the ‘island’ feel without the huge Visa bill.”
***
Later that night, we’re in my apartment, having a quick dinner before Wyatt has to go back to work. He learned about Shelby’s visit about an hour before when Shelby called to tell him she met me. He’s so upset he’s hardly eating his dinner.
“Wyatt, it’s fine, Shelby wasn’t mean, she’s just…outspoken,” I assure him.
“That’s not the point, she shouldn’t have been dropping by without calling or entering the house like she owns it. And God only knows what she said to you. Knowing her it’s something that crossed the line. She does that. A lot. I’m gonna kill my brother for not warning me,” he says, stabbing his dumplings.
“She didn’t mean any harm. She invited me to family dinner, so she can’t be that bad. At least she invited me,” I reply, only partly kidding.
“Winter, you’re the same woman who tried to ditch me like ten seconds after saying you’d be right back. I know how much pressure these family things can be, and I was trying to spare you. I want you to meet my family but I want it to be on our terms, not Shelby’s.”
“It’s okay, I get it.”
“Babe, we can go over to my parents’ house right now. I know they are still up.” He’s smiling as he shakes his head at me.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I think it’s endearing that you fail to see just how in love I am with you,” he says as he places his hand on mine. “You can meet my family whenever you’re up for it. Well, you can’t meet Shelby because as it turns out she’s a dead woman as soon as I get off my shift.”
“How’s your case going?”
“Found a witness but he’s terrified of testifying. The DA is afraid to put him on the stand, he might recant,” Wyatt says bitterly.
“Do you have a plan B?”
“We’re working on it.”
Now would be a good time to tell him about the Street Kings. But Carlos will be off to his art class tomorrow and everything will be fine. So, why even bring it up, right? Besides, there’s something else on my mind…
“One thing did come out with Shelby’s visit…” I begin carefully.
“Am I gonna hate this?” he says with a deep sigh.
“Um…I’m not sure. She implied that you have had a lot of women.”
“Yup, I’m gonna hate this.” He grumbles.
“No, it’s not a matter of how many women you’ve been with,” I reply quickly.
“Then what is the matter?”
“She made it sound like you had an epic sex life.”
“I hope this isn’t the part where I talk because I don’t really know what to say here,” he admits.
“So you have had a lot of amazing sex…?”
“God, I’m seriously going kill that woman,” he says, referring to Shelby.
“I just wanted to…”
“Baby, what is it you’re trying to say?” he pushes.
“I went to a sex shop today. And apparently you can’t get a lifetime of sex de in a half hour. That means now that we are ready to have sex, you might be…underwhelmed by my performance.”
Dear God, I’ve lived long enough. Seriously. I’m headed to the other side, because as of now, I am about to die of embarrassment.
“I sincerely doubt that,” he says with a smirk as he places his hand on my thigh suggestively.
“Wyatt, I’m serious. When I was with my ex…I don’t think I’m good at the whole sex thing. And since he’s been the only guy, he’s all I have to go on.”
“You’ve been overthinking this subject all day, haven’t you?” he asks.
“What? No!” I lie. He raises an eyebrow.
“Only part of the day,” I reply, trying to save a little dignity.
“Winnie, you just opened up to me in a major way. And believe me there is nothing I want more than to make love to you. But it doesn’t have to be right this second.”
“Yes, but when it’s time, what exactly are you expecting?”
“You on a trapeze swinging wildly and a series of top-shelf dessert toppings. In other words, the usual,” he says with a smirk. I push him playfully and fold my arms across my chest.
“Wyatt!”
He tries to suppress his silly grin but he can’t. He’s enjoying watching me stress out and overthink things. Damn him. He sees the dismay in my eyes and then turns all serious/sexy as he rakes over my body with his intense gaze.
“Wyatt, don’t do the ‘smoldering, sexy thing,’ just answer me.”
“Wait, I have a ‘smoldering sexy thing’? Good for me,” he says, looking more like a playful kid than anything. I exhale slowly and walk over to the window.
This really isn’t funny now. I’m majorly insecure about pleasing him. I hate this feeling. I never felt “less than” when I was in this apar
tment, watching Netflix and eating Thai. Back when I was staying away from the world—away from love. And now look at me. He notes the change in my demeanor and calls me to come to him. When I don’t come to him, he calls me again.
“C’mon, bright eyes, don’t stand so far away. Come here,” he says in a low, commanding yet warm tone. I walk back over to the dining table and he props me up on his knee. He places his arm around my waist and pulls me close.
“There is nothing in a sex shop that can turn me on the way your smile does. There’s no other woman in world that could do to me what one of your kisses do. And believe me, when it’s time for us to have sex, we’ll fill the house with so many passionate screams, we’ll get noise complaints from half of Manhattan.”
“But I don’t have the skills that other women—”
“Baby, it doesn’t matter who I’ve been with in the past or what that woman could or couldn’t do in bed. Being with you is going to be better than it was with anyone else for the simple fact that I love you. That changes everything for me.”
***
A little while later, I’m sitting on the sofa, looking through a catalogue I picked up at the sex shop. He enters the living room with this bemused look on his face. “I know, I know, it doesn’t matter that you have more experience than me. But still…Wyatt, I don’t want to be unprepared for…you know,” I mumble.
He comes over and takes a seat next to me. He looks the catalogue over, then closes it and turns his attention back to me.
“You pick this up at the sex shop?” he teases.
“Yeah, I couldn’t decide what you’d like or what I’d like. And then there’s these toys in the back of the catalogue but they look…complicated. I mean I’m not sure if they are toys or Ikea furniture,” I reply as I skim through the booklet with growing concern. He watches me and tries to hide his smile but it reaches his eyes.
“What? Are you making fun of me?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“No, babe. But I have a radical idea on how to make up for your lack of experience.”
“Does it involve knives because I’m not sure—”
“No, it’s not knives.”
“Oh, okay. What’s this radical thing you wanna try?”
“Talking.”
“What?”
“Babe, come sit next to me,” he says. I move closer to him and try to remember that it’s rude to daydream about someone when they are talking to you. He turns to face me and lovingly brushes a stray hair away from my face.
“I love that you’re thinking about ways to please me. But it’s not just about me. What do you like? What makes you excited? What turns you on? What are your fantasies? Those things are important too.”
“I don’t know, really,” I admit.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I never really got to see what worked for me. I always acted like I was being pleased so that it would make my ex happy.”
“Hmmm. So, you’d fake an orgasm sometimes?” he guesses. I avert my eyes. He looks at me closely.
“Babe, you faked all your orgasms with your ex?” he asks. I shrug my shoulders.
“Kind of,” I admit slowly.
“Okay, what about on your own? You’ve given yourself an orgasm, right?”
“This is like…really personal,” I reply, covering my face as it grows red with shame.
“I know it’s personal, babe, and I promise it’ll always stay between us.”
“What if we break up and stuff?” I reply, mostly to myself.
He places his hand under my chin and tilts my head up so that we’re eye to eye. “Winter, it doesn’t matter if we are together or not. It doesn’t matter if five days or fifty years has gone by; I don’t betray the people I was involved with. I don’t discuss what goes on between us in the bedroom. I’m a man. That kind of shit is what little boys do. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, okay.” I love the firm, certain in his tone. It makes me heady with desire.
“If you’re not ready to talk about this, Winter, we don’t have to.”
“I think I’d like to try—talking,” I reply, determined not to go all “Jr. High” again.
“Good; so the orgasm thing, you’ve only had them by your own hand or with the help of a toy?”
“Toys felt…impersonal. And when I do it myself I’m…uncertain. It feels…odd and stupid,” I reply, looking away. And once again, he brings me back to eye contact.
“So you’ve never really had an orgasm?”
“I don’t think so. But I’m really good at faking it.”
“Okay, well that is a skill that we hope you won’t need.”
“Haha, funny,” I tease.
“Seriously, I want you to be honest. I want to know what feels good to you and what doesn’t. It’s the only way we can please each other—be honest. Be open.”
“So, you don’t want to buy anything from here?” I ask, holding up the catalog.
“I want my girl to have her first orgasm tonight. I don’t need toys for that.”
He picks me up and places me on his lap, with my knees on either side of his thigh. But he doesn’t do anything, he just looks me over with this very pleased look his face. I place my hands against his solid chest as if that can stop his ardent stare.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I laugh, unable to summon up the firm tone I need for him to take me seriously. He grins and his head falls back with laughter. We share that laughter, together.
“I’m sorry but I have to stare,” he says with an unmistakable lustful undertone.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely needing to know.
“You are just so hard to look away from—your brilliant eyes, full lips, kissable jawline, and then there’s that body…goddamn.” He growls. Suddenly shy again, I turn away. “Stop leaving me, bright eyes. Stay with me,” he says as he turns my face to meet his eyes. “Stay with me,” he says again in a deep voice that echoes deep inside me.
Now there’s no way I could turn away, even if I wanted to. I keep eye contact and drink him in.
He traces the outline of my lips with his thumb. He leans in slowly and tilts his head slightly. He presses his soft lips against mine, and claims me by gliding his silky tongue across my mouth. A strong, intense wave passes though me. He dips his tongue and parts my lips, demanding to taste more of me. He seeks out my tongue, coils it around his, and together they dance a series of erotic moves that make me vibrate from the inside out. He glides his mouth along the length of my neck, and I sigh and let my head fall back.
While he’s sliding along my neck, his lips hit on a spot just below my ear: a spot I never knew was there. I take a sharp breath. He goes back to that same spot and I try not to give it away but when he glides his lips and warms my skin with his tongue, I shiver. He now knows what I just found out. I have a spot on my neck. We made our first discovery together. I wonder if he’ll explore it or move on to the next. He does both: while his lips suckle on my new spot, his fingers travel to my breasts and sweep across my nipples, leaving them hard and aching for his attention.
There’s a small, yet powerful whirlwind forming in my body, and the more he touches me, the more powerful it grows. I moan, not sure if I can handle this kind of singularly focused attention. My nipples are distended and make a dent in the white fabric of my tee shirt. The whole time, he has not stopped licking and stroking the spot on my neck; there are so many sensations taking over me—between his lips, tongue, mouth, and fingers, he’s causing a flood between my thighs that threatens to devour me.
I can’t take it anymore, I need to feel his fingers on my nipples and this fucking shirt is in the way. He knows that. But he’s taking his time, until I can’t take it and pull the tee shirt off myself. He pinches the tips of my breasts and sends a surge of both pain and pleasure down my body.
Shit! Baby, you win, you win!
I bring his face to my chest. He latches onto my breast and sucks—hard. My hip
s grind against him in smooth strokes as my mind tries and fails to process the amount of ecstasy coursing through me.
I feel him underneath me—he’s bigger than I thought, so much bigger. He hisses and growls as I grind deeper and deeper into him. He’s bringing me to the edge, and I’m terrified of going over. He licks the sides of my breasts and send sparks down my spine that give me chills. I cry out, “OHSHIT!” as my head looks up towards the ceiling; I arch my back and beg for more.
He reaches inside my lace blue panties and slides his finger inside me; he thrusts, flicks, and rubs until I’m shaking. He adds another finger and a force one hundred times stronger than me suddenly grips me. It rips through my body.
“Ohshitwhatshappening?!” I plead.
“Look at me, baby,” he says as he guides my head down from the ceiling and makes me look into his heavenly face. He adds a third finger, and together they take total and complete control of my body.
“WYATT!” I beg.
“I want you to come for me, baby.”
“I CAN’T,” I moan as the passion whips its way through every cell in my body. He heats my nipples with the silky lining of his mouth, then cools them down by blowing a gentle breeze across my breasts. I’m so lost in the delicious torture he’s putting my nipples through, my eyes start rolling to the back of my head.
“Come for me,” he growls.
“I CAN’T.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I CAN’T.”
“You can. You will,” he says as he skillfully grazes his fingers along the ridge of my clit over and over again until, “OHMYGODIMCOMING!” I scream.
“That’s it, baby, just like that.” He groans.
“WYATT!” I beg as my body spasms wildly. I’m being rocked violently back and forth; I have no control over my limbs.
“I got you, baby, I got you…” he vows as he pulls me to him and lets me jerk against his rock-solid chest. My body goes limp; exhausted, my head falls between his neck and shoulder. He grabs a nearby throw blanket and protectively covers my bare flesh. I spend the rest of night exactly where I belong: in his arms…