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“It was awesome,” I tell her, as her happiness draws up inside me too. The purity of appreciation is something that touches me deeply. Too many people get up and walk away from an experience like this with a shrug. But not Allie. She breathes it in and holds it tightly like a candle burning brightly. I kiss her lips because how can I not? She tastes like the first day of summer, and Christmas morning cookies, all rolled into one.
Conscious that I might be crushing her, I reach between us to pinch the condom, and shift so we’re both lying on our sides. I stroke the hair from her face and brush the apple of her cheek with my thumb. I think about all the times I’ve done this with other women and no first sex has ever felt this meaningful.
“Thank you,” she whispers, resting her hand over my wrist. “Thank you for making this so…” Her voice trails away, the words for what this has been too hard to find.
I’m an ad guy. Words have always been my thing. Allie’s a journalist. Words are her bread and butter, too.
But sometimes experiences are impossible to condense into tiny letters. Sometimes there are no words.
So instead of trying to define what this was and is, I kiss the girl in front of me, and everything feels just right.
18
ALLIE
I’m not a virgin anymore.
Even the thought sounds weird in my head.
I’m not a virgin and I’ve finally experienced the kind of sex I’ve heard others gush about. The kind of sex that women write about in romance novels and is featured in films. Epic orgasmic sex that doesn’t come with baggage or expectation, and I got to experience it with a man who made me feel so good about everything.
It wasn’t part of the agreement, but after the sex, Stefan stayed with me, hugging and kissing. The aftercare was as awesome as the sex and has left me with a grin that’s threatening to obliterate my face.
When Stefan left to shower, I took a chance to freshen up. The unfamiliar sensation between my legs is going to take some getting used to. I can still feel Stefan inside me. It’s as though my body has stretched to accommodate him and now it’s taking a while to revert.
I didn’t bleed, but I didn’t expect to. The whole blood on the sheets thing would have just been awkward, so it’s a big relief.
I was expecting it to hurt but it didn’t. After all the stories they told me, I expected to struggle to accept the full length of him, but I didn’t. Is that weird? Do I have an unusually long vagina?
In the mirror, I look for differences in my face, but I don’t find any. Such a big thing has happened, but there is no evidence that I’ve changed in the slightest.
Before I go downstairs to face the hordes, I reply to a message from Kirsty, who’s asking me for an update.It’s going well, I tell her.The extended interview format is providing me with some rich insight.
Rich insight is right.
When I’ve sent the email, I exhale. Everything I said is true, but it’s far from the truth. What I did with Stefan is beyond the realms of professionalism, but it has helped me grasp some of what the men have been talking about. Getting up close and personal with ten inches of quality dick has made me really appreciate the truth behind the size discussion. A man of that size can reach places other men can’t reach. His dick was like a catapult to heaven. A baseball bat capable of hitting a home run every time!
I procrastinate over going downstairs because facing the other nine men in this house when they know what’s happened isn’t something I relish. But when Stefan knocks to tell me it’s time for a late lunch, I can’t put it off any longer.
Time to face the music.
And find out who’s next.
I know the outfit I’ve chosen to wear is a little more provocative than I’d usually select for lunch. The teal halter-dress is clingy and short, finishing halfway up my thighs. But now I’m deep into this arrangement, my body feels ripe and sexy and worthy of display. I want to sense the lingering looks and appreciative gazes. I want the men who’ve yet to show me the value of ten inches to be eager for the opportunity to reveal exactly what I’ve been missing.
When I descend the stairs, I find ten men sitting around the table, heaping food onto their plates. It smells delicious, and I can tell from the rumble of chatter and laughter that they’re hungry. But as soon as one man turns to me, the attention of every single man at the table diverts from food and pivots in my direction.
“There she is.” Theron steps out from his chair and makes his way closer, reaching to take my hand to lead me to the table. When I’m in my place at the head of the table, he bends to kiss my knuckles and I have to fight back a smile. Theron is many things, but old school gentleman wasn’t top of my list of descriptors.
“You look different, Allie.” Jonas is sitting to my right, and he rubs his chin as he studies me. “You look relaxed.”
“I am,” I say. “I’m also hungry.”
I find Stefan further down the table and blush when he winks. Forget food. I could take him back upstairs for something way more satisfying.
I reach out to serve myself a good portion of food, ravenous after the sex. A rumbling stomach isn’t sexy, but it’s a fine balance. I don’t want to be bloated from eating too much. There’s nothing sexy about a big, uncomfortably full belly!
The group is unusually quiet, and I frown and chew on my lip, wondering if they’re waiting for me to say something. Are they expecting me to share my thoughts on the experience? I guess they might be. After all, that’s what has been expected of them since they arrived.
