Kit Kat & Katie Did

by Lauren T. Hart

  I chuckled. “Ryan, you don’t need to apologize for kissing me. I like kissing you. I like it a lot.”

  “Really?” he angled his head toward me. “Because most of the time it feels like you’re just trying to be polite.”

  “I just don’t want to get carried away. I never want you to feel uncomfortable, so when I want to take things further, I just don’t. I’d rather you set the pace, call the shots, that kind of thing.”

  Ryan’s brow furrowed with thought. “I get it, but you don’t have to hold back with me, Kat. I trust you. I’m never uncomfortable being with you, kissing you. Hell, if I hadn’t made that promise not to be with virgins I’d be seducing the hell out of you mmm… most of the time.”

  “Ryan,” I looped my arm around his. “I’m not a virgin.”

  “Really?” his dimples appeared, but he was definitely trying not to smile. “In that case, Katarina, will you do me the honor of being the last girl I ever have sex with?”

  “I think,” I put my hand on his abs and slid it up over the swell and curve of his muscular chest, to his neck and pulled his head close to mine. “I would thoroughly enjoy doing that.” He breathed me in just before our lips touched and I pulled back just enough to say, “But, I’m never going to marry you, Ryan.”

  “Shut up, or you’ll jinx it and make it happen,” his dimples deepened as he chuckled and then he drew me in with another kiss. I didn’t hold back this time.

  My lips were tingly and swollen when we stopped kissing. “I like you like this,” he said as he slipped his hand into mine and led me back to the house and into the bedroom he’d claimed earlier. He turned off all the lights but kept the curtains open so we’d still have some light, and the view.

  “I really do love this dress,” he said as he lowered himself onto his knees and reached under my skirt. He looped his fingers over my undies and guided them to my ankles. He was about to toss them aside but then took a second to look at them. “What? These are awesome! I’m kind of jealous,” he winked at me.

  “They’re sort of designed to be seen.”

  “I love that,” he hummed as he slipped his hand around my thigh. Every movement was slow, and deliberate and made with lots of eye contact, the kind that continually asked for permission. I shifted away when he lifted my skirt and kissed the spot where the line of my panties had been. His eyes were immediately on mine. “Is that a no?”

  “I’ve never.” I gestured between his face and my lady parts. “That’s never happened to me before,” I explained.

  “Oh. That’s unfortunate. And you don’t want to do that, or are you just nervous about it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m still kind of new to this stuff and I sort of have no idea what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do.”

  He took my hand in his and gently kissed my fingertips. “Sex should never be something you’re supposed to do. It’s not meant to be an obligation, just an experience.”

  I nodded.

  “And you don’t need to be nervous,” he smiled up at me. “I’m really good at this.”

  I blushed and giggled — dorkishly — as the tummy tingles did their thing, because I apparently also think cockiness is sexy. “Okay. But, what do I do?”

  “Whatever feels good,” he said with a lift of his shoulders. “My safe word is pineapple.” He put my hand on his head and moved in to kiss my leg again, and then the other, and then quite low on my belly — that spot where all the tingles originate from.

  Every ounce of self consciousness I’d ever felt surfaced in that instant, made worse by my next thought wishing I was gutsy enough to be even half this vulnerable with Dominic, and how even if I were it would undoubtably end in more heartbreaking rejection. And then Ryan deepened the kiss between my thighs and everything that wasn’t physical sensation left me.

  “Oh! My! What?” I moaned.

  And I gotta say, it wasn’t cockiness, it was confidence.

  I moved my legs further apart and didn’t regret it. No idea how I was expected to endure all these new sensations and remain standing, I bent back, caught the floor and slowly lowered myself onto my back. Ryan followed my lead, but broke away long enough to tell me “That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.”

  There is an absolute double standard in sex that I am extremely grateful for, because about 30 second later I was cumming, hard. Totally surprised me. One second I was trying to think less and enjoy the sensations and the next second I was having full on body spasms. Forget ripples, these were waves. Two seconds after that I was trying to fight against it — or at least not to crush Ryan’s head between my thighs. The twist in that thinking was that as I pried my legs apart Ryan doubled his efforts. It was amazing and alarming and sexy and frustrating and amazing and alarming and sexy and frustrating and amazing and alarming and sexy and frustrating all at once. Just like that, on repeat.

  My communication had been reduced to “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, what? Fuuuuck!” It was ridiculous. Finally I managed an “Okay, woah,” and Ryan stopped, popping his head up with a grin — complete with those adorably sexy dimples.

  “You okay?”

  Some part of me felt like I’d nearly escaped death. “Yeah,” my whole body flushed with heat and I pushed my dress down to cover my lower half. “Sorry; I really wasn’t expecting to cum that fast.”

  “You’re welcome,” he reached for my hand and kissed my fingertips.

  Serious double standard. Or maybe oral has different rules? Way too noob to know any of that. “I don’t want to be done yet,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “But I’mma need a minute, because that was intense.”

  Ryan chuckled and laid down next to me on his side with his head propped up on his elbow. “Take all the time you need. I’m here all weekend.”

  I mirrored his position. “You’re cute. Will you marry me?” I teased.

  “Not if I can help it, but no promises.”

  “That’s a terrible answer.”

  “If this was a hundred years ago, we’d probably already be engaged.”

  “Gross.”

  He chuckled. “So gross.”

  “Weird question maybe but what was all that about? I mean, I feel like what just happened was very hetero, you know, and you totally didn’t have to, and why are you so good at it—“ I cringed realizing a very possible answer was his rapey ex. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. I’m just kind of mind blown I guess,” I stammered. “You’re really good and wow, and thanks, and — I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Ryan was grinning ear to ear. “I’m great, Kat. I always am when I’m with you. I don’t have a lot of experience with guys,” he shrugged. “There was this kid in Jr. high who kissed me on the last day of school, and a guy I made out with at a party once,” he sighed, made a face and shook his head, remembering. “I’ve had a lot of experiences with girls though. I’m good at it because I’m a perfectionist and I want to be good at it, and I gotta be good to pass, you know?”

  “Omigawd,” I blurted. “Did you hate that though?”

  “No. I’m having fun with my friend. My girl. Friend.” His dimples showed.

  I leaned forward and kissed him. I could taste me on his lips, kind of tangy, but I didn’t mind. I kicked a leg over him, pushed him onto his back and straddled him. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands on my back. I could feel him between my legs, rock hard. I kind of loved that I had that effect on him. But then I had this thought: what if I actually didn’t have that effect. What if he was thinking about something else, like… someone more dude-like. And then I thought: do I look like a dude? But that was a ridiculous thought, and I let it go. And then I thought of Dominic and for two or three long seconds I thought about what it might be like if I thought about being with Dominic like this—

  Heartbreaking mistake, is the answer to that.

  I pulled away from Ryan and sat up.

  “You okay?”

  �
��Yeah. We should do this on the bed, with our clothes off,” I suggested.

  “Mmm, yes,” Ryan sat up to kiss me again. “I like that idea.”

  No more thinking about anything that isn’t right here, right now.

  Several kisses later I was back in the Ryan groove and we were basically racing to see who could be naked first. His shoes were easier to remove but I had way less to take off so I won. I crossed my arms and tapped my foot like I’d been waiting forever as he fumbled with buttons and buckles and zippers.

  “You could help,” he held a cuff-linked wrist out to me.

  “Well, I do like being a part of the show,” I reached for his hands and helped him with his cuff-links.

  When Ryan was also starkers he scooped me up and hoisted me onto the bed. There was a lot of kissing, and rubbing and caressing. It was like a sexy relaxing massage that I never wanted to end. It was also passionate and caring and sexy and fun and there was talking, which I hadn’t expected, but really liked. “Do you like this?” “I love the feel of you.” “You’re so amazing, Kat.”

  I was so turned on.

  Eventually Ryan left to go get condoms from his bag and I pulled back the covers, and tossed the decorative pillows onto the floor. He looked like he was ready to pounce when he returned, as he crawled across the bed, his expression threatening to devour me.

  I squealed—

  I couldn’t help myself. It just happened. “Omigawd,” I laughed as Ryan pulled me into a kiss. “I have no idea what that was about. I’m so not a squealer.”

  “It’s me,” Ryan shrugged. “I have that effect on females.”

  “You’re so cocky,” I laughed again.

  Ryan sat back and flexed. His hands pointing toward his guy parts. “You noticed?”

  I laughed again.

  So did Ryan.

  Having sex with Ryan, I realized something that just after realizing it, seemed totally obvious: Sex for the first time with someone new, is sex for the first time.

  Sex with Julian had been about the experience. Sex with Ryan was about the friendship. It was fun, and casual, and all about pleasure and curiosity, and getting to know each other on a unique physical level. I’d done the act before, but it was all new. It wasn’t the first, but it was still a first.

  I don’t know how the act of sex is calculated as far as number of times. Is it based on stopping and starting, Is it a session thing, probably not an orgasm thing. Maybe it depends on the person, maybe everybody keeps track differently. I’m not sure it really matters unless you’re keeping score, and I wasn’t.

  All I know is, as far as Ryan and I, and our sexy time together, we were doing lots of it. We tried all the positions we could think of. Some felt better than others, some were more practical than others. There were stops and starts, and full on breaks, we talked, and laughed, and we both finished a couple of times, but never at the same time, and then, when our laughs began to include yawns we decided we should call it and try and get some sleep. And then we did it one last time in the shower. I was having so many firsts and I was loving it. And I realized that if Ryan had been my first ever experience with sex, I would have been more than okay with it.

  Ryan loaned me a T-shirt to sleep in so I didn’t have to leave and go get my PJs, and I curled up next to him and slept as sound as I ever have.

  ・❀・❀・❀・

  I have no idea what time it was when we finally went to sleep — still dark out. I have no idea what time it was when I woke up — sun was up. A door was slammed shut. Kind of a rude way to be woken up, in my opinion. Made worse when I heard — seriously the absolute last person I wanted to be standing in my room after a night of sex-capades, say, “What the fuck is this?”

  “Oh, look Sweetie, Dominic’s here,” Ryan huffed.

  Seriously anyone else. Anyone. My brain started auto scrolling through every other person I could think of that might be worse — relatives, classmates, students, nuns, strangers, creepers, friends, enemies — nope. Nada. Nothing.

  Why was this happening to me? Was there some sort of cosmic lesson or reason or curse or something? Because this was some seriously messed up — I don’t even know what to call it. Messed-up-ness? And it wasn’t that I was feeling guilty, because I had nothing to feel guilty about. It was more like this weird heartbreaking stab to the chest because whatever Dominic’s gripe was, it had nothing to do with the fact that he just discovered the woman he believes he’s in love with in bed with his best friend, even though that’s exactly what happened.

  Oh my poop on a partridge — but what if it did!? Or does!? Retroactively, I mean. What if when he finds out who I really am, he’s like, ‘But wait, you slept with my best friend — after you said you loved me!’ After he totally rejected me, but whatever, what difference did that make? It all added up to the same damn thing — heartache. Lots and lots and lots, and lots of it.

  Ryan and I sat up in the bed. Ryan was nude, I remembered. And my brain started a new battle about how to feel about that.

  “Dude,” Dominic was more pissed than I’ve ever seen him. Fuming. “Are you actually even a little bit gay, or was that all just some bullshit ruse to score another trophy?”

  I opened my mouth to proclaim that I wasn’t a trophy, and then my brain failed me and I wondered why being a trophy was such a bad thing, and then I remembered trophies are objects and objectifying people is really terrible. Meanwhile—

  Ryan sighed. “What do you want, proof? Come join in,” he offered, throwing his arms wide.

  I gasped and glared at him.

  “She doesn’t really mind,” Ryan shrugged.

  I didn’t — I wouldn’t, but that was NOT the point! I don’t know what the point was exactly, my brain was tripping from trophy to three way with Ryan and Dominic and took me a second to catch up enough to mumble out, “Can you not?”

  “No, I know she wouldn’t mind,” Dominic huffed.

  I gasped again. “Can you not?” I growled in his direction, but I couldn’t look at him. Mostly because of how angry he looked.

  “We’re not calling you gay, anymore.” Dominic pointed at Ryan. “You’re bi. Wanting both, is bi.”

  “O-kay.” Ryan yielded.

  “And you,” Dominic pointed at me. “We’re going to talk about this.” He waved a finger between him and me, and then waved it around the room. “About all of this.”

  “About all of what?”

  “This,” he repeated gesturing toward us. “You and me. Us. You two.”

  Yeah, that cleared things up. I looked to Ryan, maybe he had a clue? He just shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dominic.” I shrugged.

  “You want to talk about this here?” he asked.

  “Why not here?”

  He waited for a minute, debating with himself. And then he said, “You’re in love with me.”

  Soul punch. Right to the gut. I was definitely bleeding. I didn’t deny it. I went with a shrug and a, “So?”

  Dominic shook his head, holding back emotions. “And you can’t have me so you’re making bad choices with Ryan.”

  Now I was mad. Not sure where all the frenzy came from exactly, but it was there. I tossed the covers off and sprang out of the bed. He rolled his eyes when he saw what I was wearing — panties and Ryan’s shirt, which, I know, is super cliché — but held his ground, widening his stance and folding his arms across his chest. Not the best body language for an open dialogue, but I already knew that’s not what this was. “Fuck you, Dominic. My relationship with Ryan exists entirely independent of my relationship with you. And he was not a bad choice,” I added with a growl. “Not even a little bit.” I don’t really know where I was going with that, but I think I wanted him to know it was good, and to also really rub it in and maybe even make him jealous because impossible things was my new jam.

  “Hold on, back up. You’re saying, I tell you it’s never going to happen between us and you immediately rush off to give Ryan your V-card an
d the two aren’t related!?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, guy who had sex for the first time in the back of a car, but I didn’t give my V-card to Ryan. I gave it to an entirely different, even gayer guy.”

  Dominic scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look, I know I’m being a dick right now, but it’s only because I care about you. I care about both of you. I want us to be friends. All of us, but if you’re in love with me, and hooking up with him because you and I can’t be together, that’s gonna create some issues.”

  “Oh,” I nodded. “Like you freaking out about it?”

  Dominic’s expression dropped.

  “Dude,” Ryan pitched in. “How do you expect her to fall out of love with you if you keep doing shit like gallantly trying to protect her from herself?”

  Dominic’s expression fell even further, it was practically on the floor at this point.

  Ryan got out of bed, naked as a newborn and slipped on his pants. “Or maybe that’s not what you want at all?”

  “What?” Dominic shook his head, confused.

  “I think you’re waiting around to see if you and the Canadian Girlfriend have anything worth pursuing, and if not,” he waved toward me. “There’s always the convenient crush, right?”

  “That’s not what’s happening. And her name is Kat, use it.”

  “Kat,” Ryan said then turned and frowned at me. He’d outed me really.

  And judging by the look on Dominic’s face he was retroactively thinking the worst — that the woman he thought he loved had just hooked up with his best friend.

  “Dominic, I’m so sorry,” I started.

  “Don’t,” Dominic sounded offended. “Don’t apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong and Ryan’s right, you don’t need me protecting you from yourself. I’m sorry for the mixed signals.” And then he practically bolted out of the room.

  I just stood there, stunned.

  “Wow,” Ryan broke the silence. “Without a doubt he is one of the dumbest smart guys I have ever met.”