The Virgin Romance Novelist

  It did, and honestly, it wasn’t entirely my fault. I wasn’t the one forcing my head into his nut patch. He was forcing me; I gave him fair warning, but he wouldn’t let up. Maybe it was a good thing I threw up on him, maybe that was my body’s way of reacting to his pressure.

  I applied lotion to my face and started to giggle from the retreating glance I had of Alejandro…his dick swinging about while he shuffled to the bathroom to clean it off. It was actually slightly comical. If I wasn’t so ashamed, I would be in a full on belly laugh mode right now.

  Satisfied with my nightly ritual, I walked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, expecting to see Henry waiting for me, but my room was empty except for a small book that was on my nightstand. I went over to look at it and saw it was a book about sex, a small guide on intercourse. I opened it up and saw on the inside a note from Henry.

  Love,

  Thought this might help with your research. If you have questions, don’t be afraid to ask.

  Love you, Henry

  Guilt washed over me. Henry could be a little too concerned at times, but he had good intentions. Taking a deep breath, I tamped my stubborn pride down and walked out of my bedroom and into Henry’s, where his lights were off and his back was facing me in his bed.

  “Henry?” I asked as I walked forward. “Henry, I’m sorry. I just had a bad night, and I took it out on you.”

  Without a word, Henry rolled over in bed and lifted up the covers, inviting me in. I followed suit and snuggled against his bare chest, something that wasn’t foreign to me. During college, sometimes I would come to his bedroom to snuggle when I was feeling lonely or having a bad day. He would stroke my hair and talk to me quietly until I fell asleep; he didn’t fail me with the same treatment tonight.

  “What happened?” he asked, his voice now light, rather than angry.

  “I don’t even know if I can tell you; it’s too humiliating.”

  “Can’t be that bad; I heard you giggling in the bathroom.”

  “You heard that?”

  “Yeah,” he said, while kissing the top of my head. “I was going to check on you and I heard you giggling, so I thought you were doing just fine.”

  “Not really fine, just thinking about how ridiculously insane my night was.”

  “Does this have anything to do with that naked picture of a painted penis you have in your room?”

  “Oh, God, I forgot about that,” I said, while covering my face. “Yes, it has everything to do with that.”

  “I take it Alejandro wasn’t the man you were expecting him to be?”

  “He was at first. We had such a good dinner, and he wasn’t lying when he said those tacos were amazing. Their margaritas were even better.”

  “You drank? Did you get drunk?”

  His hand combed through my hair, helping me relax into his chest.

  “Yes, I only had one, but it was really strong. I mean, really strong. Next thing I knew, I was in his loft, looking at his art, which was all naked women in all different shapes and sizes. I saw so many different variations of nipples that I feel like I have a nipple fixation now, I need to see all nipples and study them.”

  “How do my nipples compare?” Henry joked, while puffing his chest.

  “Well, they’re not green.”

  “You saw green nipples?”

  “Yes, and green vaginas, but that’s beside the point. So, he says to me, ‘Do you want to see my self-portrait?’” I used the best Spanish accent I had, making Henry chuckle. “So, of course, being the polite person I was, I said yes. But, Henry, these weren’t self-portraits.”

  “What were they?” Henry asked, curious.

  “They were portraits…of his penis.”

  A deep laugh came from Henry and my hand that was resting on his stomach felt the laughter flow in and out of his body.

  “No way, he had portraits of his penis? Is that what that picture is?”

  “Yes, a little memento from the night. I accidently stepped on it and stole the hideous thing during my attempt to flee his apartment as quickly as possible.”

  “Why were you fleeing his apartment?”

  This was the part I didn’t want to discuss, but knowing Henry, he was going to get it out of me at some point.

  “Okay, you have to promise me you won’t tell Delaney, because I don’t think she would ever let me live it down.”

  “I promise,” he kissed my forehead. “Your secret is safe with me, love.”

  “Okay, well, he decided to show me the real thing.”

  “The real thing?”

  “Yes, his muse, the penis. The real life portrait, not the painted one.”

  “Like, he just pulled his pants down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fucking creep. Guys are so weird, sorry, love.”

  “It’s okay, I was actually fascinated, to the point that I decided to, um, lick it. Well lick in that vicinity.”

  “Lick it?” Henry asked, surprised. “Love, you touched your first penis,” he lightly cheered.

  “Not really, more like just licked his legs, because his hand was wrapped around his cock, not giving me a chance to actually touch the muse. Once he fully pulled his pans down, that’s when I realized there was a wooly mammoth staring back up at me. Henry, you were right, some guys don’t care about shaving.”

  “Oh, shit, really?” he laughed.

  “Yes, like a brillo pad.”

  “Fuck, that’s nasty,” he chuckled.

  “Tell me about it, but I still licked it, though. I licked his nut sac. I’m going to blame it on the margarita and extreme curiosity.”

  “Let’s just stick with the margarita.”

  I nodded and continued. “So, I licked it and drooled a lot because the hair was too much to handle, and when I pulled away for a breather, I got a pube stuck in the back of my throat.”

  “Oh, I’m going to dry heave.”

  “Tell me about it. I did the same thing, but Alejandro had the wrong idea and pushed my head back down to continue to lick him.”

  “He forced you,” Henry tensed up, but I soothed him by rubbing his chest.

  “He did, but I think he learned his lesson.”

  “How, did you bite his balls off?”

  “No, just puked all over him.”

  Henry stilled and turned to look me in the eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I dry heaved so bad that my stomach said that was enough, and I puked all over his genitalia. I left him with a puked up penis.”

  Studying me for a second, Henry was silent, but then threw his head back and laughed a pure and genuine laugh. I joined him as I thought about the night I had. It was truly comical.

  “That’s my girl,” he pulled me in close. “Fuck…that is so great. Fucker deserved it.”

  “Yeah, so, clearly, he yelled and went to go clean himself and I took off, punctured one of his pictures and dragged it out onto the streets of New York, where I hailed a cab.”

  Still chuckling, Henry started stroking my hair. “Even though you had a bad night, I’m glad that you were able to take care of yourself by throwing up on your date. What better way to tell him no than by throwing up all over his precious work of art.”

  “His muse.”

  “Exactly. I love it. Good job, love.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” I chuckled.

  We laid in silence as we stared up at the ceiling together. It was comforting, having Henry next to me, knowing even though I might have had a bad night, he would always be there for me.

  “Thanks for the book and for tonight. I feel much better after talking to you.”

  “Of course. Maybe tomorrow night we can look over the book together. Learn some new things together. I’m always looking to educate myself on the subject of sex.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” I said, while nuzzling in closer. His grip tightened around me as he sighed in contentment, and we both slept like that, reveling in the company of each other.

>   Chapter Twelve

  The Hyena Call

  June 9, 2014

  I saw a real life penis for the first time last night. It was interesting. It was a little floppier than I expected it to be, like the kind of floppiness a soggy baguette would offer. I wish I was able to actually touch it, rather than lick around it, because my eyes really had no clue about texture. So, to confirm or deny my thoughts on how rubbery a dick was wasn’t possible last night. Even though his penis was sitting on top of a patch of lap broccoli, I was still able to get a good look, and what fascinated me the most was how it was hard but still had loose-ish skin. What’s with that? Does Virginia have extra skin?

  I tried giving her a good look earlier this morning with my compact mirror, but was startled when Henry banged on the door, causing me to drop my compact and break my powder. After that, I left Virginia alone and just assumed her skin was normal. She didn’t feel loose down there.

  I started a new book today, and it jumped right into the sex. I’ve found reading some erotic novels were more about the sex and less about the storyline, and do you know what? For an interested girl like me, I rather enjoyed it. The only drawback was when I read at lunch, Sir Licks-a-Lot sat on his perch, aka my filing cabinet, and licked himself while keeping his eyes on me the whole time…his little leg stretched in the air as he licked his balls. It was rather uncomfortable, as if he was trying to tell me, this is how the sex really went down. So now when I read about a woman going down on a man, my first thought is of Sir Licks-a-Lot, and there is something entirely wrong with that image on many levels.

  But, back to the erotic novels, I found that the authors describe the woman’s vagina as, 1) their sex and 2) like a blossoming flower, opening up for the man’s seed. Now, in my head, when I think about this, all I can picture is a giant vagina, opening its lady folds for the penis of its choice. This confused me more about the concept of extra skin in the vaginal area. I tried googling extra skin, vagina, and let’s just say I won’t be doing that again. Something about a blue waffle popped up, and I’m pretty sure I dry heaved for a half an hour after that.

  I’ve written some more in my book, but I feel a little at a loss and I don’t know if that’s because my life is at a bit of a standstill. It’s hard to write romance when it’s completely lacking in your life. I mean, I like to think I know romance, but when it comes to me experiencing it, I get so close but fail at the end. Am I doomed to be lonely for the rest of my life? Am I going to turn into Gladys, who walks around with a cat clinging to the back of her sweater without her knowledge? I hope to God not.

  “Rosie, are you coming? Pizza is here,” Delaney called out from the living room.

  “Be right there,” I said, as I closed up my journal and stuffed it away.

  I was feeling a bit melancholy today, because not only did Alejandro completely wipe me off of his dating radar—didn’t blame the man—but Lance hadn’t called me either, and I never heard back from Greg, so all dating prospects failed me. It seemed too good to be true.

  After a long day at work, I crawled into a warm bath and read, trying to block out reality for a small portion of time, but that was short-lived when Delaney came banging on the door claiming she needed to go to the bathroom and she needed her privacy. It was the downfall of sharing an apartment with two other human beings; bathroom time wasn’t quiet time, it was do your business and get out time.

  That’s when I went back to my room to read a little of the book Henry gave me and write in my journal.

  “Pizza’s getting cold,” Delaney called out again, starting to get on my nerves.

  I pulled a sweatshirt over my head and slipped on my Care Bear slippers, yeah, I was an eight year old girl.

  “There she is,” Derk said while slow clapping. “She decided to grace us with her presence.”

  Flipping him off, I sat down at one of the bar stools and grabbed a piece of pizza from the box containing broccoli and black olive pizza; it was my favorite.

  “Where’s Henry?” I asked, expecting to see him.

  “He has a date tonight; pretty sure he won’t be coming home.”

  For some reason, a small pang of jealousy ran through my body, but I tamped it down just as quickly as it showed up. I couldn’t have Henry to myself every night. I relied on him a little too much.

  Trying to seem interested, I asked, “Oh, with who? Do I know her?”

  “Not sure. Her name is Rindy.”

  “Rindy?” I asked, already being able to picture her in my head. If she was anything like Henry’s typical girl, she would be big-boobed and blonde. He claimed to love brunettes, but almost every girl he went out with was a blonde.

  “Yup, don’t know what she looks like, but he said she was a cheerleader for the New York Knicks. I think she’s a model now, can’t remember.”

  “Sounds like she’s right up Henry’s alley then. The boy doesn’t know how to date a normal girl.”

  “He has great taste,” Derk said, while chewing on his pizza and looking at it as if it was a gift straight from the heavens.

  “He has horrible taste,” Delaney countered. “Do you remember that blonde with the ‘beauty mark’ on her face? I swear to God, that damn thing moved every time I saw her. Pretty sure it was on the tip of her nose at one point.”

  “Sweetie,” Derk said lightly. “That’s called exaggerating. We both know it wasn’t on her nose.”

  “It was. Remember, she came stumbling out of the bathroom the night we went to that small rink a dink bar in the meat packing district? Her hair was all a mess and her beauty mark was on the tip of her nose.”

  “Babe, you were highly intoxicated that night. You thought my dick was sprouting out of my ear.”

  “Why are you taking her side? Do you like her? Have you been talking to her behind my back this whole time?” Delaney accused.

  Derk threw his hands in the air and said, “I give up; she had her beauty mark on her nose.”

  Smiling with satisfaction, Delaney turned back toward me and said, “Works every time. Remember that when you have a solid man in your life, just keep pushing him until he gives in.”

  “Great advice, babe. Teaching her how to show a guy to an early grave. Real nice.”

  “Just trying to help a girl out,” Delaney said with a wink. “So what happened with handsome Alejandro? Was it everything I thought it was going to be? That picture speaks for itself, I’m just wondering why it has a size seven heel print in it.”

  We all looked over to the mantle in our living room, where Henry had put the punctured canvas for all to see. It was our new artwork, and I couldn’t help but giggle, just looking at the stupid thing.

  “I wondered what that new artwork was,” Derk said, studying it. “That dude is packing in that picture.”

  “Well, it’s not very accurate” I mumbled.

  “What?” Delaney said, while shoving my shoulder so I had to look at her. “I’m sorry, but did I just hear you right, you saw his penis last night?”

  “I did,” I confirmed, making Delaney’s jaw drop to the counter. “I don’t want to get into it, but let’s say I saw his penis and it was extremely hairy, so I left his apartment as quickly as possible.”

  “Ahh, come on,” Derk said, sounding disgusted. “Guys who don’t man-scape really give us a bad name. A little trim to the balls goes a long way, especially when your lady is keeping things clean.”

  “Thanks, babe,” Delaney said, while kissing Derk on the lips. “He’s right, if he wasn’t shaved and trimmed up down below, I would never put his balls in my mouth, and I’m going to be honest with you, Rosie, I like man balls in my mouth.”

  Did she just say she liked man balls in her mouth? I didn’t believe that was a sentence I would ever utter, because after my experience from last night, I didn’t think I would be able to look at a set of balls without gagging.

  “I’m sorry, but did you just say you liked balls in your mouth?”

  “I did,” Delaney conf
irmed casually. She spoke passionately and said, “There’s something about having your man by the balls, being able to bite down on their most prized possession with one tick of your jaw…not that I would, but it’s so powerful, plus I like running my tongue along Derk’s scrotum; he practically purrs when I do it. It’s fun.”

  “You know, babe, there are some things you can keep between us, it’s okay to do that.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Delaney countered. “Then I wouldn’t be able to see how red your face gets when I talk about how you purr.” Delaney turned toward me and continued. “He also likes it when I run my finger into the crevice of his thigh, right where his leg meets the juncture of his torso. He says it tickles him, but it actually makes him harder…”

  “Babe, seriously. Enough,” Derk reprimanded, looking an awful shade of red.

  “Don’t be so stuck up, Derk. We’re sharing.”

  “Are we? Okay.” Derk set his pizza down, brushed his hands off, and looked directly at me. “You know the noise that comes out of Delaney’s mouth when we’re doing it, the hyena sounding one?” I nodded my head, just as Delaney covered his mouth with her hand.

  “Don’t you dare fucking say a thing,” she warned.

  Well, now I was interested. Whenever Derk and Delaney were together in her room, it wasn’t uncommon to hear a wild banshee sounding animal noise come from her room. I chalked it up to Delaney having a really good time with Derk, but now it seemed like she had some hidden sex secret, and I was intrigued.

  Fighting off her arms, Derk pinned her against the counter and looked over her shoulder at me. With an evil grin, he divulged her secret.

  “Your friend has a serious toe fetish, and if I do anything to her toes, she starts hissing and screaming like a hyena. If I want the girl to come, I just wiggle her big toe while I’m deep inside of her, and she’s a goner.”