Virgin(70)

This was not going to make me come. I prayed to God he wasn’t planning on staying down there till I came. I was still lying in silence. Should I respond? Should I make sounds?

“Mmmm,” I muttered. What the hell was that? I sounded like I’d just had a spoonful of crème brûlée.

I couldn’t handle this. I pulled him up by his shoulders, and he stopped in confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you not enjoying it?”

“Oh no, of course I am!” I lied. “It’s amazing. I just thought you . . . might not want to stay down there for too long . . .”

“No, I love licking girls out.” His tone was deadpan as he stared into my eyes. Bollocks.

“I want to make you come,” he continued. “Then I want to be inside you and come in you.”

I gulped. This was intense. He had a whole agenda worked out.

“Cool,” I said eventually. I tried to smile. He grinned and went back down.

“Ahh, that’s amazing,” I said. God, this was so embarrassing. I felt like a third-rate actress. I felt like a blond porn star. I felt like a virgin who was going to have to fake an orgasm.

“Mmm,” I groaned. “Ohhh, that’s so good.”

He seemed excited by my encouragement because he licked faster, like an eager puppy with a bone. I wrinkled my face in disgust. I tried to remember the scene in When Harry Met Sally where Meg Ryan faked an orgasm. I could totally do this.

“Ohhh yes, yes! That’s it, keep going,” I said, whilst wondering how the hell I had managed to get into this situation. “Ohh, ohhhh yes!” my voice crescendoed. Then I stopped and tried to simulate the vibration-tension thing my body did when I made myself orgasm. I breathed heavily and gently pushed him away with my toes, so he was forced to move away.

“That was so good.” I sighed dramatically. He smiled at me, looking as chuffed as I probably had when I’d successfully given him head.

He leaned over and started kissing me. Oh my God, ewww! I could taste my vaginal juices. I wanted to gag. I pulled away and leaned over his shoulder, hugging him while I tried to spit subtly and scrape my teeth with my tongue. He leaned towards me and kept kissing.

I took a deep breath and lay down. He lay on top of me, his body squashing mine. Then he stopped. “I guess I’d better find a condom,” he panted.

“Oh, I have one over—” I started to say, but he had already gotten his wallet and was pulling one out. Great. I’d gone through all that humiliation in the pharmacy for nothing.

He opened it and started unrolling it over his penis. And there went my chance of putting sex ed into practice. Oh well, at least this was finally it. IT WAS HAPPENING.

He finished putting it on, and then brought his dick near my vagina. He grinned at me, gently poking it in.

“OWWW!” I screeched. It felt like he had hit a brick wall inside me and was thwacking against it.

“Sorry,” he said, looking genuinely concerned. “Try and open up a bit.”

I tried to breathe deeply, and he pushed himself in again but my closed vag valves refused to let him in. This was not going well.

He shrugged and gave up. He pulled me towards him and started kissing me again. Oh my God, no. How could this be happening? Why was my body not letting me fulfill my dream? This was so unfair. I was so close.

I had to try again. “No, let’s keep trying,” I urged.

“Ellie, it’s not working . . .” he said.

“Please,” I begged, then realized how unsexy that was. “I want you so bad,” I whispered, channeling the teacher/Britney porno I’d witnessed. Who knew their minimal dialogue would be so useful?

“Okay,” he said with a grin. “Try and sit on top of me.”

“Um, okay,” I said, and started maneuvering my body uncertainly. I eventually sat on my knees, one on either side of his body. Then, gently, with his help, I lowered myself onto his still-erect penis. I was descending on him. Slowly, I felt the tip of him rub against my lips. With a deep breath and a prayer to every God out there, I descended. Bit by bit, millimeter by millimeter, he was inside me. I gasped in agony as I felt him go right inside, farther than the Champneys bottle had gone. He groaned in delight and my face lit up.

I WASN’T A VIRGIN ANYMORE!

Then I remembered we had to keep going.

Shit, what was I meant to do? Like, go up and down? Ride him like a cowgirl on a wild buffalo? I tried to go up and down but I had no rhythm to speak of. With every attempt the pain got more uncomfortable and I realized how much my thighs lacked muscle.

He took charge. Careful not to let him slip out of me, we rotated so I was on my back and we were in the missionary position. He put a hand on either side of me, as if doing a push-up, and started pumping himself in and out. It felt mildly sore but not agonizing. It was more mechanical than pleasurable, but my face broke into a smile that spread across my face and wouldn’t stop growing. Jack caught my eye and grinned.