“Well, you could use your hands.”
“I thought I did.”
Oh dear. “It’s just the average woman needs twenty-seven minutes of direct stimulation to have an orgasm.”
“Wow. That seems like a lot.”
“I could make it a little easier for you. I could show you how I like it.”
“Sure.”
I pulled up my nightgown, since I didn’t think I could do this while completely naked. I took off my underwear as he lay on his side, resting on his elbow, watching me.
“So, I kind of rest my hand here on my, um, mons ...”
“Mons?”
“Um, yeah. It’s a word that refers to the part right above the, um, pubic bone.”
I had spent an hour thinking and researching about how to instruct Caleb on the way to make me come. The only time I ever heard of a mons was in the historical romance novels I had been reading since the eighth grade, but I came across it in my research and it seemed like an easy way to explain where to rest his hand.
“Okay, mons. Go on.”
“Then from my angle, it’s easiest for me to use my middle finger, but you could use any one that’s comfortable for you. Then I, I mean, you, could kind of move your finger sort of like this. Then, after a couple of minutes, you put your fingers inside of me while you touch my clitoris at the same time.”
His eyes were half closed and he was breathing rather heavy. I guess my friends were right. Guys like women to masturbate in front of them.
“Do you want to try?”
“I can. Or you could keep going.”
If I kept this up for about two minutes, I’d have an orgasm. Then why did I need Caleb? I needed him to make me come. Some may say an orgasm is an orgasm, but I refuse to believe that, even though I’ve never had one from anything other than masturbation.
I often wondered if the problem was with me. Maybe I couldn’t relax enough.
In college, I read everything I could about how to have an orgasm. They all said the same thing. You have to relax and get totally out of your head. Don’t think too much. Easier said than done.
“I’d prefer to have you do it.”
For the next half hour, Caleb did his best, but sadly, it did nothing for me. He did everything I requested of him and more. His touch didn’t set me on fire. He couldn’t even stimulate a spark. That left me with only one solution.
“Oh, Caleb. That’s perfect. Yes, yes, yes!”
I admit it. I faked it. If I told him after thirty minutes of trying he still couldn’t make me come, he’d feel terrible and I’d feel terrible. Clearly, this wasn’t his fault. Why should he feel terrible? This was my problem and I needed to take one for the team. I’m sure over the years I’ll become more relaxed and comfortable. If not, there’s always a vibrator.
I heard the ripping of a condom wrapper and then Caleb entered me. At least I think he did. A few minutes later, he rolled over and fell asleep.
How long did I need to wait to make certain he was asleep before I could finish what I started earlier? Five minutes? Ten? When he snored a few minutes later, I knew it was safe. My fingers find the right spot and five minutes after, I fell asleep wondering if Goldman and Becca were having sex at that very moment.
The next morning Caleb asked me to go with him to visit his family in New Jersey the following weekend. Knowing that meeting the parents was the step before engagement, I happily accepted. We bought the plane tickets and reserved the hotel online before he left to go home.
He wanted to see me during the week but I needed some time to think before we spent an entire weekend together. That was a big step, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I should be ecstatic, but instead, I felt a nagging uneasiness.
The only one who could tell me what to do was Missy. Of course, I called her right away and asked if we could meet for lunch.
I saw my doctor at the Urgent Care Clinic he helped to administer and he confirmed I had a mild concussion. As long as I felt better, I didn’t need any tests. Satisfied with that answer, I left the doctor’s office and went straight to my lunch with Missy.
A warm and sunny day, we met at a bistro that had outside seating. It provided the perfect ambiance for what we needed to discuss.
“Did I miss anything after we left the wedding?” I sipped on my ice tea and fumbled in my purse for my sunglasses. I hadn’t worn them for eight months and they needed to be cleaned, but regardless, I put on my Ray Bans and tipped my face to the sun.
“You missed Jill bitching at Jacob because he got cake on her gown.” We both laughed over Jill’s high maintenance antics.
“How did it go with Caleb last night when you got home?”