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“I’m saying the guys I’ve been with are fun, but they don’t know how to deliver. Like, I get that something inside me might not work correctly, but if you’re going to take me out to dinner and then we go back to your place and I give you ‘the best head of your life’”—I use air quotes to prove that was his statement, not mine—“the least you can do is work your butt off to make sure I enjoy myself, too. But of course, it never happens. Though I guess I can’t blame them entirely. Like I said, maybe something inside me doesn’t work right.”
When I look back at Boyd, my body feeling warm and snuggly and heavy in my seat, I realize he’s staring at me with an intensity I haven’t seen from him before.
Granted, we’ve only been on this flight together for a few hours so far, but still. It’s a new look, focused entirely on me, and I like that.
“Sorry. I’m just going to back you up here a little bit. Are you saying…” He pauses, almost like he isn’t sure he wants to say whatever is on his mind. “Are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?” he asks, his voice dropping low and his face close enough to mine that I can see the flecks of gold in those beautiful browns.
I’m so distracted by his face being so close to mine that it takes a beat or two for me to realize what I’ve said, and I cover my face with my hands.
“Oh my god,” I whisper then peek at him through my fingers. “I can’t believe I said that.”
Mortification seeps into my body, eliminating the little buzz I was enjoying and replacing it with a cold discomfort that makes me want to hide.
I keep my eyes closed and slump as far down in my chair as I can go, lifting my blanket so it’s covering my head and I can wallow underneath in my absolute shame.
What the hell?
The only person I’ve ever talked to about the fact that I can’t seem to orgasm is Fiona. Not my mom, not any of my other girlfriends.
Definitely not random fucking strangers on a plane!
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Before I can burrow down any farther, the blanket is tugged off of my head and a sweet-faced Boyd is peering down at me, a smile covering that handsome face of his.
“Ruby,” he says, pulling on the blanket as I try to cover my face again. “Come on, I was enjoying our chat. Don’t hide from me.”
At his gentle cajoling, I right myself in my chair, the sobering effect of having bared a very embarrassing secret to him taking hold of me.
I’m quiet for a minute, peeking over at where he sits next to me, his attention lasered in on my face.
“So…” he starts. “Have you never had one before?”
My whole face flushes. In my entire life, I never thought I’d be facing a man like Boyd and having a conversation like this.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, you know.” His words come out as a statement, and I turn to look at his earnest expression. “It’s their fault, not yours. They’re the ones who should be embarrassed.”
I let out a half-laugh, wishing that were actually how it worked.
“Can we talk about something else?” I say, suddenly wishing I were anywhere but here. “This is not where I was hoping this conversation would go.”
Boyd pauses, and when I look into his eyes, I see that he wants to keep talking about this. I can’t imagine why. Maybe just sheer fascination with the idea that he’s looking at a girl who hasn’t ever reached the pinnacle of sex before?
But I also see the moment he takes pity on me and changes the subject.
Instead of talking about my orgasm-less sex life, he tells me a little bit more about his job. It’s full of concepts I’m not entirely familiar with, but I get the idea that he works for a company that purchases and repurposes apps and software, and Boyd’s job is to then meet with startups planning to use those apps and software and help them integrate the technology completely.
It really is interesting hearing about what he does, and any other time, it would have been stimulating enough for me to ask questions and really follow along.
But the effect of the alcohol is slowly wearing me down, and it isn’t long into his story that my eyes start to droop.
“You getting sleepy over there?” he asks.
I nod. “It’s not because I think you’re boring.” I want to make sure I clarify. “I barely slept last night because I was nervous about this trip, and alcohol makes me sleepy.”
“Why don’t you take a nap?”
