When the laughter was spent I lay on my back, exhausted. I was an emotional basket case. The “dislike James” box still got a big tick, but nevertheless I felt closer to him than to anybody else on the planet.#p#分页标题#e#
And now I knew what I’d wanted from the moment I’d first seen him.
Friendship.
Intimacy.
Passion.
I would never have these things with James.
An overwhelming sense of loss coloured the sky a dark shade of bleak. Should I chalk the weepies down to the post-op blues? After all, the tearing of my hymen had been like having surgery. Or maybe my tears were caused by post-orgasmic depression. You get depression post everything else, so why not orgasms?
My nostrils filled with the smell of sex. I’d always wondered what that meant and now I knew. It was James and it was me, fused and extracted into the sweet pungency of sweat and cum.
Suddenly, the knowledge of what we’d done made me feel more confident than I had in a long time, as if I could do anything I set my mind to. Hell, if this was how fantastic sex made you feel then it was no wonder people were at it all the time. Putting up with a bout of post-climax depression was a small enough price to pay. Besides, my volatile moodiness probably had nothing to do with James. Last night had been my first time and that was bound to cause a few tears no matter what. I waited for the painful jab of self-deceit but nothing happened.
It was time to get up, forget about my sister’s fiancé and get on with my life. I had more important things to worry about than James. Quietly and quickly, I stripped and replaced Caroline’s sheets, hoping my parents wouldn’t wake up until I’d crammed everything into the washing machine.
As I tidied and freshened up the room with Caroline’s floral perfume my heart fluttered, punctuating my erratic thoughts with physical exclamation marks. When I was done I looked around, satisfied at my handiwork. I took a deep breath and shut the bedroom away, smelling of roses.
“You did what?”
Marcia’s screech would have made an opera diva proud. The afternoon was chilly with the freshness of mid-March but we were strolling down Brighton’s bustling waterfront in shorts and T-shirts, eating vanilla ice cream with chocolate flakes. Amusement arcades and tacky souvenir shops shared the channel view with the grandeur of a faded Victorian masterpiece, the Brighton Hotel. Their strident, overly cheerful music wasn’t enough to muffle Marcia’s shock. She stuck her hands over her little brother’s ears but he squirmed free.
I leaned in close to whisper. “I had sex with James.”
Marcia shooed Kai away and he headed for a giant trampoline in the distance. It’s hard to shock Marcia into silence for long so I took advantage and gave her the short version. When I was finished she put her hand on my forehead and looked at me like she was going to have me sectioned.
“Bloody hell, Pais,” she gasped. “Not only did you impersonate your saintly sister to satisfy your lustful loins, you deceived her intolerable toff into infidelity. I hate to think what you would’ve done if you had liked the fellow.”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had for the past week. “It was a two-for-one deal.”
“More than two by the sounds of it,” she quipped. “I want details.”
A mature, reserved sort of person would stick to the minimum, but that wasn’t me. I felt just like the waves crashing on the pebbly shore, my heart pounding as I told Marcia everything. Sure, I’d told her about my experiences before. Little snippets like “his arse is tight” or even “his dick was fire-engine red.” I’d never felt anything with the men I’d made out with though. Not even a tiny thrill, although I’d certainly tried my hardest.
This was different; it was new and completely consuming. And the funny thing was that I hadn’t even seen a single centimetre of James’s body. All I could do was describe touch and taste and sensation while Marcia listened, wide-eyed.#p#分页标题#e#
She fanned herself with her hand. “Shut up or I’ll grab the next man I see and shag him, gay, straight or in-between.”
The jogger behind us skirted around her and glanced back, then did a double take, making me smile. His reaction was pretty normal—Marcia resembles Catherine Zeta-Jones. Her Brazilian parents also gifted her with permanently tanned skin, although she complains she’s too pale. She gave him a saucy wink and he jogged backward a few steps before resuming his run.
I plunged into the bit about sex that still worried me two weeks later.
Marcia grinned salaciously. “Gushing like that is called female ejaculation.”