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I fall into a rhythm of pulling out and spearing her again. Chastity’s leg tightens around my waist and her fingers make their way to the back of my neck. I feel her curl her digits in my hair and pull gently as I thrust inside of her. I am rewarded with soft mewls that turn into deep, throaty moans. “You like that, baby,” I grunt as I pick up speed.
Chastity responds with a whimper and I know she’s getting close. I thrust into her over and over again, leaving an indelible mark on her soul as I take her virginity. I want her to remember me as the first man to ever be inside of her; I want her to beg and plead that no other man will be inside of her again.
I pull the orgasm from her body with no warning. I am pumping my hips when I feel the lower half of her body tense around me. She shatters like glass, a yell echoing through the room to express her pleasure. I keep thrusting inside of her to draw the waves from her tender core, but I only make myself come.
The warmth of my pleasure coats her insides. I drain all of my desire into her, groaning as I press my forehead against hers. “Chastity,” I moan her name, “what are you doing to me?”
Her breath comes in heaves as she touches me all over. “Nothing you didn’t want.”
She’s right. I wanted every second of this. And I hope she did, too.
CHASTITY
No one tells you how exhausting an orgasm is. When mixed with a dose of alcohol and a late night, I fall asleep almost instantly.
Rooster pulls out of me and lays next to me. I feel his fingers drawing invisible tattoos on my arm. The buzz from what we just did is like a glass of warm milk, lulling me to sleep.
My dreams are replays of what happened between Rooster and me. I see him in the club, dancing with other women before he sees me and gravitates closer. I see the two of us hot and panting in the Velvet Room, the security guard a few feet away, oblivious to it all. I see the top of his head as he buries his face between my thighs.
But all those delicious moments disappear as the sun streams through the window and wakes me up. The dreams are forgotten, and so is last night. I look at the ceiling and know that this isn’t my room. Panic seizes my chest as I shoot up in bed.
Rooster is sleeping beside me, or he was until I disturbed him. His eyes open with wild fear as he looks around. “What happened?” He mumbles. “Is everything okay?”
It all comes rushing back to me. Last night. Rooster. Having sex. “Oh, my god,” I croak, “I’m a terrible person.” Jason is going to be crushed. When he finds out, he’ll surely leave me. “This is bad, very bad.”
I slip from beneath the covers and find myself standing in the middle of Rooster’s bedroom naked. On the floor is my flirty, dirty dress from last night. Blake told me to have fun, to get a little crazy. This probably fits the bill, but it’s definitely not what I was supposed to do. “What have I done?” I groan.
Rooster slowly sits up in bed and runs a hand through his messy brown locks. It takes him a few seconds to come to life as he blinks, yawns, and tries to understand what’s going on. “Chastity, it’s alright.”
“It’s not alright,” I groan, “my fiancé is going to kill me.”
That wakes him up. Rooster’s eyes widen and he looks down at my hand. Nothing. “Your what? Chastity, you aren’t wearing a ring. You didn’t tell me about any fiancé.”
I sit down on the bed and bury my face in my hands. Last night this seemed like such a good idea. Be like Blake, I told myself. Have a good time. Well, now that good time is going to result in one man getting hurt and losing thousands of dollars on a wedding he already thought was too ostentatious. “Jason,” I mumble into my hands, “my fiancé’s name is Jason.”
To Rooster’s credit, he doesn’t scream at me to get out before I complicate his life. Instead, he crawls across the bed to sit beside me and wraps an arm around my waist. “Tell me about him, Chastity. If you’re getting married, what was last night?”
I pull my face out of my hands and look up at him. “It’s a long story.”
He leans over to press his lips against my forehead. “Let’s get some coffee then.”
Rooster gives me a robe to wear and leads me to the kitchen. While he makes a pot of coffee, I start telling him the story of how Jason and I met. “Things started out perfect. He would bring me flowers every Sunday and send me ‘I miss you’ texts on the days he didn’t see me. I thought that our love story was going to be written in the stars.”
Over the years when I told Blake about Jason withholding affection, I always had an excuse for him. I made his behavior okay in her eyes by telling her that I was pushing him or that I didn’t even want to have sex, I was just missing that level of intimacy. But when I tell Rooster about the little ways I felt slighted by Jason and about how I asked him repeatedly to hold my hand more or kiss me, there are no excuses, only pity.
He never interrupts me. Rooster grabs a mug and fills it with coffee, supplying me with sugar and creamer as I talk. He nods his head and makes the appropriate listening sounds. He sits beside me, watching intently as I draw out the last five years of my life.
“Last night, Blake asked me what I would do if nothing changed with Jason. What if he isn’t the kind of guy that will ever hold my hand in public? What if we go to church on Sundays and his idea of affection is standing near me and never touching me? What if he can’t bear to kiss me as often as I want to be kissed even when we’re married?” I purse my lips as I say out loud all the things I’ve feared. “I guess those questions got to me. Mixed with a couple of drinks and the attention of a man who genuinely wanted to have a physical connection with me, I forgot about Jason.”
That’s not true. I put the memory of him behind me. I didn’t want to think about Jason when I was with Rooster. I wanted to forget about the proverbial ball and chain at home. I just wanted to have fun. I just wanted to know what it felt like to feel loved.
Rooster waits until my story is finished, then he waits a few moments more. He stirs his coffee over and over again with a spoon until I’m certain that the sugar and creamer are well-blended. When he’s certain that I have nothing more to say, he reaches over to place a hand on top of mine. “Chastity, I’m kind of an outsider to all this. I don’t know Jason, but last night, I got to know you. And everything I learned about you made me want to take you in my arms and never let go.”
His thumb softly strokes my hand, causing me to unfurl my tightened muscles. “If you love Jason, that’s fine. You can leave here today and pretend this never happened. I would understand and I won’t hold it against you. But you did this for a reason, Chastity. And I hate to say that he isn’t filling your needs, but physical touch is so important to emotional intimacy. Just putting my hand on yours makes you calmer. That’s what being with someone you love does.”
I nod my head slowly in agreement with him. I do love Jason, truly, but the questions that Blake brought up nibble at my reasoning. “What if I leave him and it was for nothing?” I look up at Rooster, begging this sweet man I hardly know for answers. “What if I call it quits and it turns out everything I wanted would have come true after the wedding?”
It’s Rooster’s turn to purse his lips. I can see him rejecting the words going through his head before ultimately settling on a response. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s something you need to ask him. Will things change? Will he touch you more? Will he provide for all of your needs? That’s a conversation the two of you should have, Chastity.”
