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I’m going home with Peter. I’ve decided.
I don’t care what my family thinks. I’m twenty-six years old, and as far as they know, he’s my boyfriend.
We’re sitting side-by-side on the couch now, my arm around his shoulders. It’s torture not to be able to do more with him. Ever since last Monday, it’s been torture, in fact. I use my goddamn vibrator every night and think of him.
A week ago, I couldn’t imagine letting him do everything to me, but that’s changed.
I’m ready.
I also have the urge to scandalize my family, and to send a message to my sister that yes, this man is mine. It’s annoying to watch her batting her eyelashes at Peter. She never even liked Asian guys before, and now she’s smitten by my boyfriend?
Uh-uh. She doesn’t get to have him.
I tell Peter that I’ll be back in a few minutes, then go upstairs to pack a small overnight bag. Just as I’m zipping it up, my mother knocks on the door and enters.
“Ah, you’re going to spend the night with him. Good.”
“Good?”
“Yes, you must keep him happy, or he will go elsewhere.”
Oh, God. Not this again.
Fortunately, she doesn’t call me a very expensive, delicious piece of meat this time.
At ten o’clock, Mom gives Peter a large bag of leftovers, and the two of us head out. Every time we come to a stoplight, he puts his hand on my leg.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I say.
“It was no trouble,” he murmurs. “None at all.”
“My mother loves you and no longer thinks I’m a complete failure of a daughter.”
He glances at me. “Regardless of me, you are not a failure.”
“She encouraged me to spend the night with you.”
“Yeah, she told me when we were washing dishes that it would be fine.”
I make a face. “God, this is awkward.”
Once we’re alone in his apartment, though, my family disappears from my mind, and there is only Peter. Peter, who has always been so lovely to me and went along with my scheme to pretend he was a doctor in front of my family.
He slides his arms around my waist. “Tell me what you want tonight.”
“Everything.” I swallow. “I want everything.”
He grins. “But feel free to stop me at any time, okay? We don’t need to have sex just because your mother is encouraging it.”
I roll my eyes. “Can we forget about my mother now?”
He picks me up, and I squeak in surprise. He carries me to the bedroom and sets me down on the bed, and then he climbs on top of me and kisses me.
This is the first time we’ve kissed while lying down, and it feels pretty damn spectacular, his weight pressing me into the mattress. But I need to touch his skin, so I pull off his T-shirt. He’s built and solid, but not freaky-chiseled, and I think he’s perfect.
If I hadn’t made up a fake boyfriend named Peter—thank you, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before—the day before we ran into each other, would we have started anything?
I doubt it.
The world works in interesting ways.
Okay, now I’m getting philosophical when I’m supposed to be getting freaky.
The problem is, as much as I love touching him, as much as I love his lips on me, I really struggle to quiet my mind when I’m in bed with a man.
Even Peter.
He pulls me up, just long enough to remove my shirt and bra, and now we’re half-clothed together.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, his gaze raking over my brownish nipples and smallish breasts and acne scars.
Stop thinking about those things, Valerie. You’re beautiful. He said it, so it must be true.
He presses a kiss to my neck, then one to my collarbone, then one to the slope of my breast...and finally one to my nipple.
I gasp.
Everything he does is wonderful. He has a way with my body. Or maybe he’s just really good with women in general, having had all those girlfriends?
Stop thinking about other women, Valerie!
To distract myself, I reach for the zipper on his pants. I pull them off and toss them on the floor, and now he’s only wearing his boxers.
Yeah, Peter seems like a boxers kind of guy.
He lies on his side next to me, a crooked smile on his face, and trails his fingers over my breasts.
My breath comes faster.
I’m in bed with a guy. The first guy I’ve been with since all that bad shit happened. I want Peter, but I’m still freaking out, and oh my God, why am I so bad at intimacy?
Well, I’ll just have to get through it. I tug off my jeans and underwear and throw them on the floor. I’m entirely naked now.
“Mm.” He climbs on top of me again and rubs himself against me as he kisses his way down my neck. “You good?”
“Yes. I’m good.”
He runs his hands all over me, my breasts, my ass, my hips, my stomach. His touch is firm, but somehow reverent. He’s so fucking sweet, and he...
He slips his hand between my legs.
He’s probably expecting me to be wet for him. But...
“Why don’t I give you another blowjob?” I say, removing his hand from my body. I glance at the tent his cock is making in his boxers and reach toward him, but he stills me.
“If you’re not interested, you don’t have to do anything today. We can just sleep beside each other, or I can sleep on the couch, if you prefer.”
“Can’t let you have blue balls.”
“Yes, you can. It’s not a problem, or I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about me.”
When we made out in the alley and in the backseat of the car, I wasn’t such a basket case. Perhaps because I knew we weren’t going to go any further, I could just let go. But now, it’s different.
“I want to have sex, but I’m very bad at it,” I blurt out.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s difficult for me to just let go and be intimate with someone. Also, I’m not good at getting off. Or getting wet, as you may have noticed. There’s nothing wrong with me—I’ve been to the doctor—and it’s not like I don’t get wet at all, just not as much as other women, from what I understand. So, like, you might think it’s because I’m not in the mood or I’m not sufficiently attracted to you, but I am. My body just doesn’t cooperate, and it’ll probably make you frustrated. And it’s extra bad now because I’m stressing out about it.”
“Well, there’s a very easy solution.” He reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a bottle of lube. “Now, is there a way for me to get you off?”
“Only using a vibrator. Please don’t take it as a personal challenge and spend half an hour going down on me, convinced you’re different. Don’t hold off during sex, waiting for me to come.” I reach into my bag and pull out my lime-green vibrator and slap it on the night table, my cheeks heating in mortification.
I can’t help thinking about what happened with Stephen. He told me he had to go elsewhere because I was too difficult in bed. He said I wasn’t meeting his needs, couldn’t meet his needs. I know he’s a piece of shit, but he gets in my head sometimes.
I’ve always been a bit neurotic when it comes to sex, and now it’s worse.
This is the first time I’ve tried to have such a conversation before sex. I figure it’s better than Peter fucking me until it hurts, determined to get me off, and me faking an orgasm in desperation.
But I’ve ruined the mood. It’s my first time with a new guy, and we should be overcome with waves of passion, not having an awkward talk.
Peter doesn’t deserve this.
Yet it turns out that, once again, Peter is unflappable.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, “I can work with that, though you might have to give me some guidance, okay? Don’t be afraid to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t.”
“You could find someone who’s less of a weirdo and isn’t lying to her parents about your profession.”
“I could, but I want you.”
It’s hard to believe, even though I can see that in his eyes, feel it in the way he’s caressing my body.
“You still want to do this tonight?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“It might take a few times to get it right, but I’m happy to practice.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry about a thing. It’s all okay, I promise.”
For a long time, we just kiss. Eventually, he reaches for the lube, squirts a tiny bit on his fingers, and rubs his thumb over my clit. I arch toward him.
He runs a finger over my slit before slipping it inside me. “How’s that?”
“It’s good.”
“Now show me how you like it.” He hands me my vibrator.
My cheeks flame. “I’m not sure I can do this in front of you.”
“Alright. Some other time.” He turns the vibrator on and starts to use it on my clit, his finger still inside me. His cock peaks out from the slit in his boxers, and I reach for it. He’s rock-hard, which is a surprise, given how weird I’ve been.
Relax, Valerie. Just relax.
And slowly, as he keeps touching me and pressing kisses all over my body, I’m able to relax. When I pump his cock a few times, he pulls my hand away.
“You have to stop, or I won’t last.”
He’s this turned on. For me.
Don’t act so surprised, Valerie. You’re hot shit.
I can’t help snickering at my thoughts. They’re all over the place.
“What is it?” he murmurs.
I shake my head.
He smiles at me, then asks, “Can I go down on you? Do you like that?”
“Yeah. I just can’t quite get all the way there from oral sex.”
“Okay.” He turns off the vibrator and slides down my body until his mouth is at my crotch. He licks along my entrance before sucking on my clit. He slips a second finger inside me, providing just the right amount of fullness...for now.
I sink into the mattress. My swirling mess of thoughts is starting to calm.
I want it to be perfect with him, but our first time together is unlikely to be perfect.
And that’s okay.
It’s him and it’s me, and we can figure it out.
He adds a third finger. I’m not used to having so much inside my body, not used to the touch of anyone but me and my plastic friend, but he’s preparing me to take his cock, and God, that thought is hot.
I thrust my hands through his hair and hold his head against me as he continues to lick me. It feels good now, really good, and I squirm against him.
He slides up my body, keeping his fingers in me, and kisses my lips. I taste myself, and somehow, that’s particularly intimate.
Peter continues to stroke in and out of me as we kiss, and every press of his lips against mine seems just a little different. Some seem to say, you are wonderful just the way you are; others say, I want to be inside you so badly.
I have never enjoyed kissing a man so much.
“May I fuck you now?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say.
He reaches into his bedside table again and produces a foil packet.
My heart thumps in my chest with anticipation. There’s still a twinge of nervousness—I’m not surprised he couldn’t get rid of that entirely—but I know this is going to be okay.
He rolls on the condom. It’s lubricated, but he squeezes some more lube on his hand and rubs it on his cock before guiding the tip to my entrance.
“Do you want it like this?” he asks. “Or another position?”
“This is good.”
He pushes in slowly, watching my face the whole time. I feel like he can see everything about me, yet that doesn’t make him turn away. He keeps going until he’s fully seated within me.
It’s an odd sensation after not having a man inside me for so long. Not unpleasant, but not entirely pleasurable...yet.
But I trust it will feel good soon.
I wrap my legs around his hips and press my body up to his, wanting to feel all that I can of him, this man who doesn’t just put up with me, but likes me for who I am.
He thrusts shallowly a few times and slowly increases his speed.
For so long, I couldn’t bear the thought of doing this with another man, yet here I am. I kiss him everywhere I can, no pattern to my touches—I can’t think clearly enough for that.
“God, Valerie...God.”
And I revel in the fact that I can make him unravel.
We move in harmony for a while, and then I roll us over so I’m on top. I sit up straight, playing with my breasts, fondling my nipples, watching him watch me.
“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes.”
I enjoy this simply for what it is. I don’t think about reaching a peak that I’ve never reached from this act; I just enjoy the moment.
He slams his hips up to meet mine, and I gasp.
“Do that again,” I say.
He pumps into me a few more times. “I’m going to...” A few frantic thrusts, and then he’s crying out my name.
I fall on top of him, my chest against his, as he comes, his entire body shaking beneath mine. I’m in awe of myself, in awe that I could do this to him.
But he’s not done.
When I lie on my back beside him, he idly slides his fingers between my folds. Eventually, he picks up the vibrator, turns it on, and touches it to my clit.
I’m so sensitive that I nearly come right away, but not quite.
“Let me show you,” I murmur, taking the toy from him. I increase the speed slightly and use it on myself, not as self-conscious as I was before.
“Got it.” He kisses my mouth and plays with my breast as he uses the vibrator on me, just how I like it, and I grip the sheet in my hands.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
Sensation overwhelms me, flooding every part of my body, and I scream.
Oh, how I scream.