“You’re crazy and wonderful, and I think I’m falling in love with you too, and I’m still a virgin, but technically I’ve kind of, sort of had sex, so I use the term partial-virgin because it was one time and he only partially got his penis in before he finished, and his penis was literally the size of a piece of Pez candy and my sisters like to call him Pez Penis now and make fun of me because now I’m a pregnant partial-virgin, and I just wanted you to know because I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”
She finally stops talking and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
I know I should have paid really close attention to every word she said, but she talked incredibly fast and my brain shut down after the words “falling in love with you too” and “virgin”. Then it came right back to life when she said she didn’t want to keep any secrets from me. Now is my chance. Now is the perfect opportunity to tell her who I am. It doesn’t get any better than this moment, right here.
“Say something so I don’t feel like even more of an idiot because I’m half-naked in your living room, talking like a dumb girl about dumb feelings and other dumb girl stuff that gives me hives,” she complains.
I open my mouth to spit it out, I swear I do. The words are right there on my tongue and I even take a deep breath, full of confidence now that I know she loves me back. Then Molly has to go and move her hips, doing this incredible little swirling motion that rubs her lace-covered vagina against my dick.
I’m such a cheap whore with a one-track mind.
“So, when you say partial-virgin, it’s because you and some fuck-for-brains were naked and something resembling sex occurred, correct?” I ask.
You know, just to clarify and make sure we’re on the same page.
“Sure, I guess you could put it that way,” she nods, still moving her hips the tiniest bit, just to make sure my dick is paying attention. “His penis, was legit the size of the head of your penis. My fingers have gone deeper than his Pez dispenser.”
And that’s it, folks. My brain is tapping out and my dick is now in charge. When a chick talks about fingering herself, there’s no coming back from that shit.
In one quick motion, I keep one arm behind her back and bend down to slide the other one behind her knees, scooping her up into my arms as I charge through the living room, down the hall and into my bedroom.
“If you’re okay with this, I’d like to release you of your partial-virgin status,” I tell her as I gently lay her on top of my bed and move on top of her, holding myself up on my arms so I don’t crush her.
“I think I’m more than okay with that,” she whispers, sliding her fingers through my hair at the back of my head and pulling my face down to hers.
“You should probably start reciting those football teams now,” she breathes against my lips. “Don’t forget I was raised in a sex shop. I took my first steps in the lesbian porn aisle and my first word was orgasm.”
She wraps her legs around my hips, locking her ankles together against my ass and uses her muscles to pull the lower half of my body closer until my denim-covered dick is nestled right against the heat of her soon-to-be no longer a partial-virgin vagina.
Her hips start rocking against mine, and I tell myself it’s totally fine if I wait one more day to tell her about Alfanso D. She is in need of my expertise and who am I to let a woman in need down?
“Air Force, Akron, Alabama, Appalachian State, Arizona,” I begin chanting softly between kisses as I move down her neck and across her chest before wrapping my lips around one of her perfect nipples.
Molly’s back arches and she lets out a low moan that makes my dick twitch and with excitement.
“Arwiwona Fate, Arwansas Fate, Wamy,” I recite with a muffled voice, refusing to remove my mouth from her nipple.
“God I love football,” Molly says with a sigh.
Chapter 21
– Drunk Babies –
Marco
“Beated up the hooky again, Uncle! Ooooh, steal anodder car and shoot more people!” Valerie shouts with excitement as she bounces up and down on the couch next to me.
“It’s pronounced hooker, not hooky, and I don’t need to steal another car right now, sweetie,” I explain, jerking my body to the left as I aim the PlayStation controller at the screen and make my car swerve around a pedestrian.
Letting my four-year-old niece watch me play Grand Theft Auto for the last hour probably wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, but at least it kept her in one place instead of screaming and climbing the walls.
No, seriously, she actually climbed the wall in my bedroom like fucking Spiderman. It’s Tessa’s fault. She told me to give her a piece of chocolate every time Valerie goes to the bathroom on her own. No one gives me a Snicker’s when I take a shit without assistance, but whatever. Valerie must have a bladder the size of…I don’t know, something really fucking small because she has gone to the bathroom every two minutes for the last three hours. I’ll let her swim in the sugar bowl as long as she doesn’t piss on the carpet.
“Shoot him in the head! Make his head explode!” Valerie screams, clapping her hands together when I shoot a cop trying to arrest me.
“Do you remember what I told you, Val?” I ask, pausing the game to look down at her.
“Grand Feft Auto isn’t real life. It’s bad to shoot people, even hookies. I mean hookers,” she tells me with a serious face.
“You’ve learned well, Grasshopper,” I reply with a nod and a pat to the top of her head.
Once I finally found something to hold her interest for more than two seconds that wouldn’t cause death or dismemberment and a seriously pissed off sister, it actually hasn’t been so bad hanging out with my niece. When I asked Tessa if I could babysit her for a few hours today, I thought she was going to choke to death she laughed so hard. After she finally stopped laughing and realized I wasn’t laughing with her and I was totally serious, I had to sit there for an hour while she gave me a quick course on Babysitting for Dummies. When she finished and gave me a list of telephone numbers for every person she’s ever met in her entire life, including the numbers of ever hospital in a three-hundred mile radius, she made me sign a piece of paper stating she has permission to cut off my balls with a pair of rusty scissors if anything worse than a paper cut happens to her child under my care.
I’ve had a goofy fucking grin on my face ever since I successfully took care of that pesky partial-virgin status for Molly, but at the same time, I feel like the biggest jerk in the world that she trusted me and gave something so important to me and I still haven’t managed to tell her the truth. The more time we spend together and the longer I wait, the worse I feel, yet I keep coming up with one excuse after another to keep putting it off.
Molly’s giving me a blowjob—it can wait.
Molly’s naked in my living room—what’s one more day?
Molly wakes me up with her head under the covers and her mouth on my dick—she needs to rebuild that confidence and overcome the penis puke, I can’t ruin that.
Molly takes me on a tour of Seduction and Snacks and asks me to fuck her in the warehouse in the vibrator aisle—I swear I’ll do it after her orgasm when she’s relaxed but one orgasm turned into four and I needed a nap.
Molly asks me to help her with a troubling recipe, and before I know it, there’s chocolate sauce on my penis and dripping off her tits—chocolate on tits is delicious. No explanation needed.
Molly brings home toys from work and asks if I want to watch her use them—I AM JUST A MAN, STANDING IN FRONT OF A WOMAN, ASKING HER TO GET HERSELF OFF!