Page 34 of The Virgin Playboy

“Look at you, gorgeous. You look really nice,” I complimented, admiring her natural curly hairstyle that she rarely wore out, paired by her cross between preppy and alt. She looked so huggable, as I reached my arms around her, realizing that this was my happy place.

“So, think you're ready to try a workshop or two?” My face soured.

“That sounds like uni. I just got out of school, Jaq,” I laughed.

“Well, I've been considering this for a while, only I didn't know I’d be doing it with company. Last time we hooked up, you said and did some things worth exploring. Take in mind, you're allowed to pick and choose what you do or don't retain.”

“Why does it feel like I'm walking into a dark alley blind?” I joked

“No, no, no. I should have been more direct. I’m taking you to a Kink 101 workshop, more if you're open to it. It's a small little office suite with a bunch of things going on. I figured if anything resonated with you, we could explore it more. I mean, while we're here⁠—”

“Yeah, we're already here,” I joined in.

“I was a little nervous that it'd be a lot so early on,” she admitted.

“I told you I was open to anything when it came to our arrangement. I can't say that I'm a whips and chains kind of guy, but whatever guy I am, I'm open to knowing.”

“Perfect,” she said, as she leaned up to press a light kiss to my lips, trying to limit the transfer of her dark red lipstick. We took an elevator to the office suite, and upon entering, there was a slight community center style set up, an entire floor dedicated to different workshops galore.

Jaq and I found a two-seater table that already had worksheets and role testing to discover how tame or extreme your kinks were. Strangely, I was learning my upbringing was essentially a lifetime of developing an orgasm denial kink, but even kink itself wasn't inherently sexual. It would be blasphemous to compare it to any kind of practicing religion, but it was a lifestyle built on roles, rules, and responsibilities that made it easier to understand when I drew parallels between them.

It just didn't help pinpoint where I would fall on that scale. Jaq wanted to know where I would lean, to cater to what I might thrive in. Not to disappoint her, but answering a BDSM assessment, I didn't traditionally lean more towards either role. Through games, group Q & A, and demonstrations, there'd been things I wanted to explore and I'm sure tonight had been about learning a definite answer.

The time hadn't been a total waste, as we walked away with toys, pamphlets, and a whole bunch of free samples I doubt would last the night. When we finally reached my place, the conversation surrounding it took a recess, as considering we’d always met at Jaq’s, she was somehow amazed with how I’d set up my flat. It wasn’t hard to see how much of a music fan I was after getting a glimpse of my place. Between my collection of vintage guitars on the walls, my drum set, my keyboard in the corner and all my recording equipment, I think she thought I was joking when I said I loved music.

“Wow, I am in awe! Your place is soooo nice. Why the hell do we go over my house all the time? Look how clean it is in here!”

“Are you only saying that because I'm a guy?”

“Not only that. But you have to admit, living in New York, while I love it, is fuckin’ expensive. How the hell with you being a student, can you afford all this?”

“I guess my parents do okay. Plus, my program offered me a stipend to study so I'm not exactly struggling for money,” I downplayed. “But don't get too excited. It's a musician’s dream, but a next-door neighbor's worst nightmare. Thankfully, the landlord let me soundproof the home studio I set up for my stay here.”

“You have soooo many guitars,” she said looking around in wonder.

“To be fair, some of these are basses. That’s a ukulele. And this one’s a violin. That one’s a cello,” I said, pointing out the corrections.

“Well, excuse me. I told you I’m not as versed in the creation of music as you probably are. I just consume it, oblivious to what goes on behind the scenes. Outside of Gladys, do you have a favorite?” Looking along the wall, I pulled off a Cordoba, a flamenco guitar it took a few months to master. I was influenced by a ton of styles but learning on this one was a blast since flamenco guitars they were lighter and it was simpler to incorporate a multitude of sounds from the body.

“Sit down, I’m going to play something for you,” I smiled, her whimsical expression, laugh out loud status. She sat down on the loveseat, as I sat close on a nearby armchair.

“Now this one here is a Spanish guitar, otherwise known as a flamenco guitar. It might look kind of the same as an acoustic but the sound that comes from it is different,” I explained, as my fingers went to work along the chords, playing a familiar horror theme. When she recognized the main theme of the Halloween theme, she started happily clapping.

“FYI, I literally learned these this weekend just because I knew you were sleeping over,” I switched to The Nightmare on Elm Street, which took her a minute to get but when she did, her mouth dropped.

“You learned to play these in a weekend?”

“I can be quite obsessive when I’m learning new music. And instead of playing you things you didn’t know, I figured, ehh, why not learn some things catered to what you like.”

“The way your fingers are moving without even stopping to talk to me is crazy,” she said in awe, in regards to how fast my fingers moved along the chords. Switching to Rocky Road to Dublin, she got up and faked throwing a throw pillow at me, wearing a look of disgust.

“C’mon Jaq, this is lightwork. I’ve been playing since I was three. I can have full blown conversations without ever pulling my hand away. Plus, I’m sure the ‘tism doesn’t help. This is basically me stimming,” I joked. Her mouth turned up into a devilish smile, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable on the couch.

“I have to admit, I think this is why you’re so good with your hands. I have a newfound love for your hands right now.” I shrugged.

“I suppose the skills can be seen as transferrable,” I winked.

“Umm, yeah! You weren’t exactly going in blind.”