It finally happened, I lost my virginity. Cue applause and cheers.
For a while life was all rainbows and kittens prancing in a sky full of cotton candy clouds…that was until the demands of the real world set in.
My best friend is getting married and she asked me to be her maid of honor. She’s not worried about flowers, or the dress, or the food at the venue. No, she’s worried about the bachelorette party, what kind of penis crown she will wear, and the nipple size of the stripper who will be attending.
I’m in way over my head trying to balance life with a boyfriend, planning a penis party, and writing my romance novel. Something is bound to give.
This is my life after my happily ever after…
Being a lube virgin, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the thin liquid, so, I popped the top open, squatted ever so slightly with my legs spread as much as they could go, thanks to my underwear, and I pressed the lube up near my vagina. Taking a deep breath, I squeezed hard and shot the lube straight up into Virginia.
A cold wave of thin liquid coated my inner walls right before gravity took hold of it and brought it back down, straight into my underwear, my now appointed lube net.
“Crap,” I muttered, looking down at the pile of liquid sitting in the crotch of my underwear.
Bottle and balls in my hands, I stared at the mess and tried to decide what to do. The heaviness of the lube weighed down my underwear, so I shimmied them down my legs and toed them to the side to pick up after. Commando was sexy, I told myself.
Still eyeing the balls, I convinced myself I could do this. How hard could it really be? Taking a deep breath, I prayed there was enough lube still coating Virginia and slipped the first ball in. Easily I pushed it up and was pleased with the way it fit. With a little more confidence, I thumbed the second one inside and clenched. A small vibration rang through me . . . a pleasing sensation was I wasn’t expecting.
“Well, isn’t that delightful?” I said to myself.
Standing there, I felt comfortable; I could totally do this. More confident, I deposited my underwear and the empty lube bottle in the sanitary napkins trash can—sorry cleaning service—and wiped my hands with some toilet paper so I didn’t slick down the door handle.
Flushing the toilet, I exited, walking very slowly to the sink. With every step, my confidence wavered. I had to really think about each push forward, clenching as tight as I could, praying I didn’t strain my damn cervix.
Her bosom heaved at an alarming rate as his rough hand found its way down to her soft, yet wiry briar patch…
Can you say briar patch in a romance novel? What about meat sword? That’s what it is…a meat sword, right, all meaty and sword like, slaying through the inner dungeons of a woman’s dark desires. What about breasts? Do bosoms really heave?
God, I have no idea what happens when private parts touch.
I’m a virgin trying to write a romance novel and can’t seem to write past a sex scene thanks to my lack of experience.
My two best friends encourage me to drop the pen for a while and gain some real life practice through multiple dating facets such as blind dates, online profiles, and random hookups.
But losing my virginity is proving to be tougher than expected…