The Virgin Romance Novelist

  “She made a scrapbook for the occasion. Printing pictures off the internet of Prince William as a baby and glued them next to Prince George. She swears they’re identical, but they really aren’t. To please her, I just agree.”

  “You’re such a good son,” I patted his cheek.

  “I try to be, so obviously, when she sent me a package from London, mind you, I knew it had to be a pair of royal socks, and I was right. She also put some tea and shortbread in the package, stating it was the best she had ever had.”

  “Seems like maybe she was supposed to be born in London.”

  “Tell me about it. She would move there in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for me and my brother. She is attached to my niece, so she would never live that far away from her. We’re nervous though, because my mom has already started talking to my niece about the royal family and becoming a princess one day. She believes she could be Prince George’s wife. She even tells my brother there is nothing wrong with his daughter being a cougar.”

  “Oh, that is amazing,” I chuckled. “Your mom seems awesome.”

  “She is.”

  The oven beeped, indicating the pizzas were done, so I helped Greg take them out, cut them up, and plate them. I put a little too many toppings on mine, so I had to use a fork and knife to eat mine, because every time I picked up a slice, it just flopped over, letting all the toppings fall off.

  We ate our pizza, which was quite good, and talked about small things, keeping the conversation light and fun. The date that I was dreading earlier on was actually turning out to be rather fun. I should have known Greg was going to be a good guy from the messages he sent me.

  After we finished the pizzas, cleaned up, and wiped down the counters, Greg grabbed my hand and led me back to his couch. This time, he sat much closer, still wrapping his hand around the couch as his other hand held onto mine.

  “Thank you for coming over tonight,” he said, while looking me directly in the eyes.

  My heart took off at a rapid beat from his proximity. It never ceased to surprise me what a little human contact could do to me. When a guy started to become intimate, my body started to tingle, and my mind almost turned into mush.

  “Thank you for having me over,” I responded, just as Bear took a seat next to us and started licking himself.

  The loud slurp of his tongue hitting his privates echoed through the silent room, and it was all I could think about as he lapped up his junk.

  Glancing down, I took a look at Bear to see him lightly nibbling on his crotch, apparently trying to dig deep into his dirty junk. The noise, smell, and look of him cleaning himself had me revolting and wanting to dry heave. I thought Sir Licks-a-Lot was bad when he cleaned his mini kitty balls, but this was one hundred times worse, because the noise was like a slurping whale trying to waft through shit. It was nasty.

  “Doing your daily cleaning, bud?” Greg asked, while looking fondly at his dog.

  I wiped the look of disgust off my face as I watched Greg admire his dog’s cleaning tactics, and wondered how the man could possibly enjoy watching that, let alone hearing it.

  “He’s really getting in there, isn’t he?” I asked, trying to be polite.

  “Oh, yeah,” Greg responded, almost proud of the damn dog. “Bear has to have the cleanest balls in the Upper West side, isn’t that right, buddy?” Greg asked, as he leaned down and rubbed Bear on the head.

  “Well, what an accomplishment,” I said, trying to hide the sarcasm pouring out of my mouth, which I did a good job of, since Greg turned to me and smiled. He pulled me in closer to him and started playing with my hair.

  Yup, he wanted to kiss me, I could see it in the way he kept glancing down at my lips and the way he was inching closer every second.

  The thrill of someone leaning in to kiss me never seemed to diffuse, because each moment was the same. I grew nervous and excited all at the same time.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned forward as well, just as Greg’s hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me in that last inch. His lips softly hit mine and gently started kissing me as I reciprocated the motion.

  The man knew how to kiss, I realized, as I let him explore me, while I very slowly opened my mouth, but not quite enough for him to get too frisky. It was an innocent kiss, a sweet kiss, and one that I thoroughly enjoyed.

  Everything was perfect, except for the feeling of someone staring at us. Carefully, I opened up my eyes and glanced over at Bear while I continued to kiss Greg. To my horror, I saw Bear looking up at me as he ever so slowly licked his crotch, as if he was watching soft porn and pleasing himself. His eyes bore into my soul and I couldn’t help but pull away from Greg. I was able to get over most things quite easily, but a dog pleasuring himself while watching me make out with his master was something I just couldn’t handle.

  “What’s wrong?” Greg asked, confused as to why I pulled away.

  Clearing my throat, I chanced a look at Bear and said, “Bear seems to have a staring problem.”

  “What?” Greg asked, a little insulted.

  “He keeps looking at us and cleaning himself, while we’re kissing. It’s just a little weird.”

  “It’s not weird,” Greg laughed, as he leaned over and patted Bear on the head. “You’re just curious, aren’t you buddy?”

  In slow motion, I watched Bear’s long tongue with a black dot on the end—gross—fly out of his mouth and start licking Greg’s face, lips and yup, even tongue, as Greg laughed from the onslaught of love from his dog.

  My eyes turned into microscopes, taking in every last germ that was spread from Bear’s balls to Greg’s face in a matter of seconds.

  After a few minutes, Greg pulled away and turned toward me. “He’s just a dog, nothing to worry about.”

  With a smile, Greg leaned forward and puckered his lips, just as my hand flew up and stopped his approach by basically palming his head like a damn basketball.

  “Uh, what are you doing?” Greg asked between my fingers.

  I tried to see Greg, tried to see the man I saw earlier, but it was impossible, because all I could see was small dog balls hanging off of his face, dog feces and dog pee tainting those lips. Thoughts of how many times Greg made out with his dog before I even got to his apartment tonight ran through my head. Did he make out with Bear right before I arrived? Did I, in a roundabout way, end up kissing Bear’s junk tonight?

  “Eck,” I said, while getting up and shaking my hand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You have dog balls on your face?”

  “What?” Greg asked, truly confused.

  “Dog balls, you have dog balls on your face. Jesus, I kissed a man with a dog ball face.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “From your dog,” I said, pointing at Bear, who was in proper ball licking position, but looking at both of us with the picture of innocence all over his face. “First of all, your dog licks his junk as if he’s digging through a basin of quicksand, and secondly, do you realize the last thing your dog licked was his balls and then he licked your face? Call me a prude, but I don’t want dog balls on my face.”

  “You’re serious?” he asked, confused.

  “Yes!” I said, while pulling my hand away. “You can’t possibly think I would want to kiss you after that display of affection with your dog.”

  “I feel like you’re insulting Bear. I’m not cool with that, Rosie.”

  Jesus.

  “Well, I’m not cool with your dog practically giving himself oral while he watches us kiss.”

  “Wow, talk about a one-eighty. You’re a bit of a snob, Rosie.”

  “I’m a snob? Because I don’t want dog giblets on my face? Okay, I just thought that was being sanitary.”

  “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  “You think?” I said sarcastically, as I grabbed my purse and stomped out of his apartment more angry than anything else.

  June 12, 2014

  Getting lucky in the city is
proving to be quite impossible. If it isn’t a pube in the back of my throat getting in the way, then it’s man’s best friend, and I’m not talking about the penis.

  Really? Did he really think I was going to kiss him after he made out with his dog? Even if his dog wasn’t licking his junk beforehand, I still would have required a wipe down of the face before we went back to our lip lock.

  Its common sense. Dogs carry a gaggle of germs on one millimeter of their tongues. If they’re not licking themselves, they’re eating their poop, or they’re eating someone else’s poop, or they’re drinking out of a toilet, or just licking the light post that every hobo in the city has peed on.

  Note to self, don’t date men with dogs unless you plan on making out with a melting pot of New York City’s finest bodily fluids.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Man Milk Shuffle

  “Delaney, I can’t believe you’re engaged?” I said, as I eyed the rock on Delaney’s finger. Derk really went all out when it came to her ring.

  “I know. I gave Derk the best blow job of my life last night as a thank you.”

  “That was him squealing?”

  “Yes,” she smiled as I cringed.

  I heard some hideous sound come from their bedroom, and I just assumed it was Delaney, even though it seemed a little deep for her, but to find out it was Derk, I didn’t think I could look at the man the same way.

  Even though I was slightly disturbed, I was still a little curious, so I asked, “What did you do that had him making such awful noises?”

  “Don’t judge the noises,” Delaney waved her finger at me. “Until you know what it’s like to lose all sense of what’s around you in the throes of passion, you can’t judge.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She was right. I really had no room to judge, especially since I didn’t have any experience. The one time I was even close to reaching that big O moment with Phillip, the man who felt my fart caress his chin—poor Phillip—I made noises only a feral cat would make while searching for their mate in heat.

  “So, what were you doing?” I asked as my face heated up from just thinking about that afternoon with Phillip…what a disaster that was.

  Leaning in, Delaney propped her chin on her hand and said, “So, Derk has this thing with his balls, he loves them to be touched, sucked on, licked, what have you, but the thing with Derk is his balls are huge.”

  “Ugh, gross, Delaney,” I said, while pulling away.

  “What? They’re big, Rosie. You have to know this, not all dicks and balls are the same. Some are uneven, some are crooked, some are small but wide, and some are thin and long. They’re all special in their own way. Derk just so happened to be born with the balls of a fucking Greek god, that’s if Greek gods had massive balls. Have you seen balls before?”

  “Yes,” I said defensively.

  “Okay, well picture those balls in your head.”

  The only real life balls I had seen were Alejandro’s, and we know they were covered by his man garden, so I tried to picture what they were underneath all the weeds.

  “Okay,” I faked, because all I could envision was his pubic hairs…everywhere.

  “Well, triple the size of those balls, no, quadruple.”

  “Umm…okay,” I said, still not seeing it, which Delaney noticed, so she huffed and looked around our kitchen.

  “Oh, I know.” She went to the fridge and started rummaging around until she pulled out a grapefruit and then grabbed a banana off of the counter. She put them together and held them in front of me.

  “This, Rosie, this is what I’m talking about. His balls are like this grapefruit, just enormous.”

  Studying the grapefruit, I shook my head. There was no way Derk had balls that big, where the hell did he put them?

  “I know what you’re thinking, he wears briefs, straight up. He tried boxers once and I had never seen such bad chafing in my entire life. Briefs are like a protective sling for his balls, keeping them high and tight to his body, so he’s able to walk around without making it that noticeable. The first time I ever saw his balls, I’m pretty sure I blacked out for a second. When he took his pants off for the first time in front of me, I watched as his balls dropped heavily from his briefs and dangled between his legs like a damn kettlebell. It was the sexiest most intriguing thing I had ever seen. There’s something to be said about a man with a giant set of nuts.”

  “Is that right? What’s that?”

  “The amount of cum that spews out of them when they orgasm could take down the Titanic. It’s always a mess with us.”

  “A mess? What? What do you mean a mess?”

  “Rosie, when a guy comes and he’s not wearing a condom, where do you think it all goes?”

  “In your vagina,” I said, matter-of-factly.

  “And once it’s in your vagina, where does it go from there?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Don’t your uterine walls soak it up? You know, like lotion.”

  “Are you saying jiz is the vagina’s form of lotion?”

  I shrugged, “Isn’t it?”

  “No!” Delaney said, while laughing. “Oh, my God, Rosie. First of all, vaginas don’t need lotion, second of all, what goes in, must come out.”

  “So, what are you saying? Does it just…drip out of you?”

  “Uh, yeah. Haven’t you seen me run from my bedroom to the bathroom wearing only a bathrobe?”

  “Yeah, but I thought you just had to pee.”

  “No. It’s called the man milk shuffle. You keegle the shit out of your vagina, keep your legs closed as tight as possible, don’t even dare to breathe as you shuffle to the bathroom and then flop on the toilet to let everything fall out.”

  My hand flew to my mouth as I racked my brain for such a scene to have played out in any of the books I’d read.

  Nothing.

  Nothing about the man milk shuffle.

  Disturbed, I asked, “It just falls out?”

  Nodding her head and taking a giant bite out of the peeled banana in her hand, she said, “Yup, just falls right out. The worst is when you get all sexy in the bathroom of a bar or something like that and you don’t have enough time for gravity to work its magic. Then you find yourself back out on the dance floor, dancing your life away, and all of a sudden, you get a wave of man milk falling right into your underwear…”

  “Nope,” I shook my head. “Nope, this was never told to me. Where was this information in sex ed? Where is it in life?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s kind of taboo, Rosie. No one wants to talk about how jiz falls out of vaginas.”

  “Obviously!” I planted my head in my hands. “The more I find out about this whole sex thing, the more I want to avoid it. It’s supposed to hurt, even though books describe it as a ‘pinch’, you’re apparently supposed to bleed everywhere—looking forward to that—and now you have to worry about cum falling out of you?”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have to worry about that at first, because you should be using a condom. Plus, Derk is the exception since he has such huge balls. With another guy with normal balls, you won’t have as much cream to deal with.”

  “Don’t call it cream, Jesus.”

  Laughing, Delaney finished off the banana and said, “Still, it won’t be bad, Rosie. I promise. Once you get past the initial awkwardness of it all, you will actually love it. There is just something about sex that is so primal, so absolutely fan-fucking-tastic that you have to experience, that you need in your life.”

  “So, when writing my book, do I include the whole cum falling out of the vagina thing?”

  “No, God, Rosie. First of all, from the sounds of your book, you need to have the people practicing safe sex, because that’s being responsible, and then secondly, do you really think the waterfall of baby gravy is going to be something readers will want to read about?”

  “You did not just call it baby gravy.”

  “I did, because that’s what Derk has. It’s so thic
k…”

  “Stop, please, just stop. There’s a line, Delaney, and hearing about the texture of your boyfriend’s cum is way past that line.”

  “Why are we talking about my cum? Derk said with a goofy grin on his face and his hair sticking out in all different directions, most likely from Delaney’s fingers.

  “I was trying to tell her about what made you scream like a girl last night, but it turned into talking about your huge balls.”

  “Babe, you know I only keep the knowledge of my melon balls between us.”

  “Apparently not,” I mumbled.

  “Don’t I have the most gorgeous fiancé?” Derk asked me, while wrapping his arms around Delaney and kissing the side of her head.

  “You do. I’m really happy for the both of you. Good job on the ring too, Derk.”

  “Thanks. It was worth it, given the blowy I got last night.”

  “Most expensive blow job of your life,” Delaney teased, as she patted him on his five o’clock shadow.

  “What are you two up to today?” I asked, just as my phone rang. “Hold that thought.”

  I looked down at my phone and saw Lance’s number pop up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Rosie? How are you this morning?”

  “Good, please don’t tell me you’re calling me to cancel our date.”

  Blowing out a long breath, he answered, “I am.”

  My stomach sank. I could have really used the date with Lance today, not only to forget last night’s mistake, but also to get my mind off of Henry. Like he said, he wasn’t home and he wasn’t answering his phone. He wanted his space.

  “But, I still want to see you today. I just need to change our plans.”

  Perking back up, I asked, “Why’s that?”

  “I’m kind of an idiot and broke my wrist last night, so rowing a boat is kind of out of the question.”

  “Oh no, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, more embarrassed than anything.”

  “Why? How did you break it?”

  “I can’t tell you. The way I see it is if I tell you before our date, you might not want to hang out with me. So, if you still come see me, I will tell you how I broke my wrist.”