A shooting star falls overhead...
And two lovers are lying in bed, spooning flesh on flesh...
Sliding his hands up and down her soft hairless calves, he begins to kiss her hips, slowly moving up her torso like a train with no bypass line. He grasps her left breast with his right arm, and his left arm falls to the top of her hip, and he begins sucking her breasts like a newborn. Closing her eyes, she can now understand the girls at school that talk about sex, a lot of sex. The river of excitement gushes through her veins, and she knows this is the tip of the iceberg, a ride all the way up to something called a climax would occur, an orgasm. She understands that this is something done to people you love. But what is the fragility of love when people have slept with so many?
Enjoy it, Lia.
Lia grips the blankets beneath her hands, feeling new sensations. He is now at her neck, nibbling on that little spot that gets everyone oiled and primed. The spots of saliva that he left in his travels have already started to dry, how they leave a tight, almost sticky, feeling on her skin. And she loves it. Jack climbs from the side of her neck to her chin, then to her lips. A passionate yet sloppy exchange ensues.
When they finish kissing, Jack sits up on his knees as straight as he can.
"You ready, baby?" he asks between her opened legs. She smiles at him in approval; her eyes fixate on the black outline of the figure that is being held down by his boxers like a monster stuck in a cage. And that monster looks big to her, but she doesn't know what big is. She is a virgin after all. Though she does know one thing: She doesn't know how he expects to get that thing inside her.
Nervously, she reaches out and places both hands on the band of his boxers and pulls down. His thing springs up like loaded gun. Yes. The thing is the best way to describe it, and the thing is an accurate description. Nothing looks like the penis, and in many ways, it's also a gun. A deadly one. She knows that from her friends. You remember Dalilah? When she and Mike didn't last (supposedly because he couldn't), Dalilah got pregnant from another guy. It ruined her life. She said it killed her—maybe literally? This thing can make babies and ruin or make someone's life if you're not careful.
"It won't bite, baby. Touch it."
"Are you sure?" she says, letting out a giggle as she wraps her dominant hand around it. Jack smiles down at her, catching her attentive eye.
Looking at it, she feels like it's an unknown. The thing is something she has never seen besides in very few movies and Dad's magazines. She always thought it strange that in movies where sex is involved, it's always the vagina or boobs being shown and never the penis. But she finds an instant love-hate attraction to his. Sure, it is pretty and loving as it throbs in her hand, leaving an unreal sense of warmth, yet she can see why some girls talk about ugly and pretty penises. Do they all look like this? And then from the utter darkness of her mind, a voice screams at her.
It startles me, this scream from her inner mind, and catches me off guard. I raise my hands to my ears, dropping my pen on my pad. Lucky for me, my pen was more interested in dancing on the edge of my pad than falling to earth and shattering time.
MY DAUGHTER IS A WHORE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE.
I can hear the scream on repeat, gradually fading to damage done and killing the mood instantaneously.
Looking down, I pick up my pen in panic. I look down at earth and observe her whole body in shivering. How can a daughter focus when distraught?
MY DAUGHTER IS A WHORE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE.
MY DAUGHTER IS A WHORE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE.
MY DAUGHTER IS A WHORE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE.
MY DAUGHTER IS A WHORE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE.
MY DAUGHTER IS A WHORE. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DADDY'S LITTLE WHORE.
Jack, confused, faces a cause of concern in her immediate change of heart.
"Are you okay, baby?"
Lia sits up, wanting to answer, yet she can only shake her head. She wants to tell him, but she doesn't want to burden him with pain. She knows he doesn't want to hear about her father. She'll just get hit again. But that voice in her head is her father's, and she knows it! He has come back from the grave, haunting her in her head. She closes her eyes, trying not to cry.
"I know it looks daunting babe. But trust me, us guys come in all different sizes, and many in the world are bigger and smaller than mine. But lucky for us, that beautiful thing between your legs is designed to take on every one of them," he tries to reassure her through her discomfort.
She sits and stares through him like a ghost. Did she even hear him? Her face blank like white paper, he finds himself stunned at the change of events. He swallows his words and takes off his boxers completely. It was happening tonight. Slowly, Lia comes back to reality to see how the man of her dreams is ready and primed to go, yet she no longer is.
"I'm sorry, but I just can't do it."
"What do you mean you can't do it? You were fine a second ago!"
"Yes, well things change in a second. It's not that I don't want to. I do, but I heard a voice—"
"Voice? You don't want to have sex anymore because of a voice?"
"It's a voice that makes me doubt this. I don't know if this is right."
"Sure it's all right, baby! You're the one who suggested this!" He leans forward for a kiss, yet she turns her head away. Was he getting rejected right now? He can feel his frustration bubble, but he holds it in check. Instead, he sits up and grabs both of her hands to reassure her.
"All you got to do is lay there, and I will do all the work. I promise, baby, I promise. I do! I'll make it gentle, and beautiful, and sweet, and caring. We will go super slow, and I'll make sure to stop if you feel any pain. Let me show you, just like this—"
Jack leans forward with his right hand, prepping for an entry like a horny teenage boy who is confused about the sudden change of heart. He just wants to show her. All he needs is a finger or two in there, and it would be all good. She'll understand the pleasure, and she will be excited to try. But when he reaches towards her flower, Lia closes her legs and snaps her head to him.
"Jack, I said no!"
This is the first time she has ever yelled at him. His hands fall limply to his side.
"Look, baby, I don't want to hurt you. I just don't understand how you can go from wanting this to not. You told me you wanted to do this, and now I'm ready and all excited to be yours and you shut me down like a sick fucking joke. I didn't put this on you. You dangled the fruit in front of me, and now that I want to eat it, you're taking it away." Jack takes a slow breath to calm himself.
"Is that okay? I just spent time and effort making sure you're comfortable, I showed you around your body. I kissed you; I primed you. All the while it has been agony for me to control my impulses. All this time I have been so patient with you. Do you not love me? If we can't do this, what does this tell us about our relationship?"
"Us?" she whispers as if thinking aloud.
YOU'RE A FUCKING WHORE! GROWN UP TO BE USED LIKE A LITTLE OBJECT YOU ARE!
Her father fills her head. In that, she wants to scream. She's not a whore! She's not a slut! Where did she even learn that language? That foul mouth? She is more than an object. She is a young girl, soon to be a woman! She reminds herself that she will never be a woman if she cannot do this one thing: be laid.
She can feel tension rise from her feet to her thighs to her chest.
"Just answer me this. Please," she begs. "Does this make me a whore, Jack?"
His eyes boggle wide. REALLY? he thinks. Was she just scared of being called a whore? By whom? Surely not him!
"No! That's absurd!" he says without a thought. "Never!"
"You're sure?"
"Yes, baby, I'm sure. We've been dating for a while now. We have been through many trials, and now it's only us and the world and everyone else. Sex is meant to enrich our relationship, not destroy it. Besides, aren't we supposed to be together forever? Because I love you."
"I love you too."
"Do you?" he asks. But before Lia can respond, he continues, "Show me you love me and let us try."
"Okay," she says, forcing a smile, hearing those two words creeping into her brain. Do you? Do you love me like you say?
Does he doubt her love for him, the same as she doubts his?
A smile surfaces on his face. Too bad it will not last.
The damage is done, and her old man is rolling in his grave with laughter. If he can't have her, no one can.
When Jack tries to guide himself in, he can't. She's seized up. He would kiss her, play with her, rub her, and try to calm her down. But every time he gets close to penetration, he can see her whole body tighten, like an old crypt full of secrets and traps. They try for five more minutes before Jack slides over, giving up.
And when Jack gives up, Lia closes her eyes and turns her body on the side in the opposite direction. She begins to cry, cupping her mouth and nose, trying to control her breathing. She doesn't want Jack to know she is crying. She always cries. In fact, she has cried so much tonight she doesn't want to cry anymore. But how can she not cry? She feels like she is a burden, a giant disappointment after disappointment to him. Surely she is breaking his heart. She hears him dress as he slides his boxers over his muscular, hairy, lower legs, prepping for bed.
Two arms suddenly wrap around her, and as his body spoons her, she feels overwhelmed. It only reinforces her ideas.
You're a pathetic thing of a girl, Lia! A pathetic thing. Can't even do what you're designed to do! Get fucked by men. Grow up. Look. Now he's sexually frustrated and probably hates you. Can't wait to dump you off at the next gas station and—
"No matter how long this takes, I love you, and I know you love me too. This has been a rough few months, a rougher dozen hours. But we will see the sun tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that."
She shakes her head. "But Jack I can't do what I'm supposed to do: be your girlfriend. I'm a failure, a pathetic thing, and I hope you're not angry at me, because I don't want to be angry at you, because I love you, and I—"
Jack covers her lips with his fingers, and her tears crawl down her cheeks, and her chest thumps up and down. Her breath steadies. A flood of released tension flows through her body; her tears stop.
He leans over, whispering in her ear. "I told you sex enriches a relationship. It doesn't signify the start of one. We have been dating for a few months and have yet to have sex. Hell, we barely even kiss, and that's okay. This is our relationship, and only ours. We can go at our pace. Besides, I know you want to. I know you want to share this special moment with me." He points at her head. "And I understand something up here isn't allowing you to.
"But the important thing is that we try and keep trying." He makes sure to emphasize the word try. "And that's all that matters to me. Now get dressed so we can—"
"Jack..." She looks down at her naked flesh and sees his arms around her breasts and her feet as they touch his.
"...can we sleep like this?" He nods.
And they do just that. And for many nights after.