Man vs. Durian

by Jackie Lau

  But I’ve ruined the mood. It’s my first time with a new guy, and we should be overcome with waves of passion, not having an awkward talk.

  Peter doesn’t deserve this.

  Yet it turns out that, once again, Peter is unflappable.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers, “I can work with that, though you might have to give me some guidance, okay? Don’t be afraid to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t.”

  “You could find someone who’s less of a weirdo and isn’t lying to her parents about your profession.”

  “I could, but I want you.”

  It’s hard to believe, even though I can see that in his eyes, feel it in the way he’s caressing my body.

  “You still want to do this tonight?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “It might take a few times to get it right, but I’m happy to practice.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry about a thing. It’s all okay, I promise.”

  For a long time, we just kiss. Eventually, he reaches for the lube, squirts a tiny bit on his fingers, and rubs his thumb over my clit. I arch toward him.

  He runs a finger over my slit before slipping it inside me. “How’s that?”

  “It’s good.”

  “Now show me how you like it.” He hands me my vibrator.

  My cheeks flame. “I’m not sure I can do this in front of you.”

  “Alright. Some other time.” He turns the vibrator on and starts to use it on my clit, his finger still inside me. His cock peaks out from the slit in his boxers, and I reach for it. He’s rock-hard, which is a surprise, given how weird I’ve been.

  Relax, Valerie. Just relax.

  And slowly, as he keeps touching me and pressing kisses all over my body, I’m able to relax. When I pump his cock a few times, he pulls my hand away.

  “You have to stop, or I won’t last.”

  He’s this turned on. For me.

  Don’t act so surprised, Valerie. You’re hot shit.

  I can’t help snickering at my thoughts. They’re all over the place.

  “What is it?” he murmurs.

  I shake my head.

  He smiles at me, then asks, “Can I go down on you? Do you like that?”

  “Yeah. I just can’t quite get all the way there from oral sex.”

  “Okay.” He turns off the vibrator and slides down my body until his mouth is at my crotch. He licks along my entrance before sucking on my clit. He slips a second finger inside me, providing just the right amount of fullness...for now.

  I sink into the mattress. My swirling mess of thoughts is starting to calm.

  I want it to be perfect with him, but our first time together is unlikely to be perfect.

  And that’s okay.

  It’s him and it’s me, and we can figure it out.

  He adds a third finger. I’m not used to having so much inside my body, not used to the touch of anyone but me and my plastic friend, but he’s preparing me to take his cock, and God, that thought is hot.

  I thrust my hands through his hair and hold his head against me as he continues to lick me. It feels good now, really good, and I squirm against him.

  He slides up my body, keeping his fingers in me, and kisses my lips. I taste myself, and somehow, that’s particularly intimate.

  Peter continues to stroke in and out of me as we kiss, and every press of his lips against mine seems just a little different. Some seem to say, you are wonderful just the way you are; others say, I want to be inside you so badly.

  I have never enjoyed kissing a man so much.

  “May I fuck you now?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say.

  He reaches into his bedside table again and produces a foil packet.

  My heart thumps in my chest with anticipation. There’s still a twinge of nervousness—I’m not surprised he couldn’t get rid of that entirely—but I know this is going to be okay.

  He rolls on the condom. It’s lubricated, but he squeezes some more lube on his hand and rubs it on his cock before guiding the tip to my entrance.

  “Do you want it like this?” he asks. “Or another position?”

  “This is good.”

  He pushes in slowly, watching my face the whole time. I feel like he can see everything about me, yet that doesn’t make him turn away. He keeps going until he’s fully seated within me.

  It’s an odd sensation after not having a man inside me for so long. Not unpleasant, but not entirely pleasurable...yet.

  But I trust it will feel good soon.

  I wrap my legs around his hips and press my body up to his, wanting to feel all that I can of him, this man who doesn’t just put up with me, but likes me for who I am.

  He thrusts shallowly a few times and slowly increases his speed.

  For so long, I couldn’t bear the thought of doing this with another man, yet here I am. I kiss him everywhere I can, no pattern to my touches—I can’t think clearly enough for that.

  “God, Valerie...God.”

  And I revel in the fact that I can make him unravel.

  We move in harmony for a while, and then I roll us over so I’m on top. I sit up straight, playing with my breasts, fondling my nipples, watching him watch me.

  “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes.”

  I enjoy this simply for what it is. I don’t think about reaching a peak that I’ve never reached from this act; I just enjoy the moment.

  He slams his hips up to meet mine, and I gasp.

  “Do that again,” I say.

  He pumps into me a few more times. “I’m going to...” A few frantic thrusts, and then he’s crying out my name.

  I fall on top of him, my chest against his, as he comes, his entire body shaking beneath mine. I’m in awe of myself, in awe that I could do this to him.

  But he’s not done.

  When I lie on my back beside him, he idly slides his fingers between my folds. Eventually, he picks up the vibrator, turns it on, and touches it to my clit.

  I’m so sensitive that I nearly come right away, but not quite.

  “Let me show you,” I murmur, taking the toy from him. I increase the speed slightly and use it on myself, not as self-conscious as I was before.

  “Got it.” He kisses my mouth and plays with my breast as he uses the vibrator on me, just how I like it, and I grip the sheet in my hands.

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  Sensation overwhelms me, flooding every part of my body, and I scream.

  Oh, how I scream.

  Chapter 15

  Peter

  I sing as I stir the wet and dry ingredients together.

  Then I remember that Valerie is still sleeping, so I stop. I don’t want to disturb her.

  I’ll wake her up before I head to work, but that’s not for nearly an hour. I got up earlier than usual because I have some things to prepare for her.

  This will be her first Tuesday in forever without work. Chloe shortened the hours of Ginger Scoops after Thanksgiving, and it’s now closed Monday through Wednesday, so Valerie has nothing to do today.

  Nothing except the plans I have for her.

  I grin when I think of how thrilled she’ll be. I sure hope she’ll be thrilled, anyway.

  The batter now mixed just enough to combine, I pour it into the muffin pan and pop it in the preheated oven. The key to fluffy muffins? Don’t overmix the batter.

  I wasn’t lying when I said I could bake.

  By seven thirty, everything is ready, and I return to the bedroom to get dressed and wake Valerie. She’s curled up on her side, near the edge of the bed.

  She was affectionate—very affectionate—after we had sex. We lay in bed, just cuddling and kissing, for an hour, but when it was time for sleep, she rolled far away from me.

  Which, to be honest, was a bit of a relief. I love snuggling, don’t get me wrong, but I have a hard time falling asleep when in physical contact with someone, so I’m glad we agree on this point.

  I smile as I look at her. She definitely has
some sex hair going on.

  In fact, I haven’t been able to stop smiling since we did it.

  She said she was bad at sex, but as expected, that was complete garbage. I bet her asshole live-in boyfriend is to blame for most of her insecurities.

  Sure, she doesn’t orgasm easily, but that doesn’t mean she’s bad at sex. I’ll just have to do a careful job of learning how she responds and what she likes, but I’m totally up for that.

  And God, she can have one hell of an orgasm. I was almost ready to go again after I saw her body arch in the throes of exquisite pleasure.

  None of my exes ever orgasmed quite like that.

  Not that I’ve spent much time thinking about those women, because Valerie is all I want now. I’ve met her family and I’ve had her in my bed. And sure, there’s that pesky issue of her parents thinking I’m a pediatrician, but otherwise, everything is going swimmingly.

  I press a kiss to her temple. “Valerie, wake up.”

  Chapter 16

  Valerie

  I crack open an eye. An unfamiliar alarm clock tells me it’s seven thirty in the morning. Ginger Scoops never opens before noon, so I’m rarely awake at this time. Why...?

  “Valerie.” Someone’s shaking me.

  Peter.

  Right. I slept with my fake boyfriend last night.

  Although I can’t say it feels “fake” anymore.

  He probably wants me to get up so he can go to work, though I hate the idea of heading back to my parents’ house in morning rush hour, then hanging out with my mother all day.

  “I have plans for you,” he says. When I try to pull him into bed with me, he laughs. He lifts me up and sets me on my feet. “Let me show you.”

  He leads me into the kitchen, and I can’t deny it smells amazing in here. Was he baking before I got up?

  Nah, that would be ridiculous.

  But then I see the rack of muffins.

  “Fresh pineapple-carrot muffins,” he says, then taps a plastic container. “This is homemade granola. You can have it with the yogurt or soy milk in the fridge. There’s also orange juice, strawberries, and blueberries. Here’s the French press, all set up for you with the coffee grounds. You like coffee, right? If you want tea, here’s the cupboard with the tea and teapot. If you want wine...”

  “Wine? I don’t need wine for breakfast, Peter.”

  “Ah, but I didn’t plan on you staying just for breakfast. I thought you could stay all day.”

  “But you’ll be at work.”

  “Yep. You’ll have the whole apartment to yourself.” He spreads his arms wide. “All for you. You can use my TV to watch Netflix, or read any of my books.” He gestures to his bookshelves. Since he was an English major, it’s not surprising that he has a lot of books. “Or have a bubble bath. I got some supplies. They’re under the sink in the bathroom.”

  This is all very thoughtful, but I’m a bit confused, and it must show on my face.

  “You said you were tired of being around people all the time,” he explains. “You wish you could live alone. This is the best I could do. You can introvert it up for the day, and I’ll be back at five.”

  Oh.

  “This is too much,” I whisper.

  “Nonsense. I’m just letting you enjoy my empty apartment for a while. You can use my laptop, too. I wrote the password down on a notepad.” He pauses. “Do you not like it?”

  Peter usually has a calm confidence about him, but now, some uncertainty has crept into his voice.

  “It’s wonderful,” I tell him.

  In fact, it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.

  He gives me a hesitant smile. “My extra keys are on the kitchen table. Just text me if you need anything. I might not reply right away, but I’ll check my phone regularly. I can talk to your mother, if you like, and tell her you won’t be home this morning.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’ll text her myself.”

  And then I’ll have a full day—nine hours or so—with no one to make demands of me. With no obligations to be social. It’s overwhelming.

  In a good way. Like that orgasm last night.

  My cheeks heat at the memory.

  Peter grins. “You’re free to masturbate in my bathtub, if you like. Just be sure to tell me about it afterward.”

  “Peter! I wouldn’t...”

  Or maybe I would.

  “Dammit,” he says softly. “I wish I could watch, but sadly, I have to go to work, like, five minutes ago, and this day is for you.”

  “But you didn’t know I was staying over until last night.”

  “I had hopes, though.”

  I stand on my toes and kiss him goodbye, and he heads out the door with an easy gait.

  I feel like he’s walked off with my heart.

  * * *

  I’m not super hungry after Thanksgiving dinner last night, but those muffins smell amazing, and if I have a muffin, the granola will feel left out, so I better have some of that, too. I make a small bowl with granola, yogurt, and blueberries, then sit down at the kitchen table with my breakfast and a cup of coffee.

  I’m suddenly overcome with a strange urge: to take a picture of my food.

  I snap a photo with my phone and send it to Chloe. Breakfast at Peter’s. He made me muffins.

  Her response: Aw, that’s so romantic! Two seconds later: So you finally spent the night together?

  Yeah.

  Good for you, Chloe says. Are you going back to bed again after you finish breakfast? *wink*

  Nah, he’s at work. I’m all alone here for the day.

  Oh my God! That’s so exciting for you!

  I chuckle. Chloe understands how much I’ve wanted a day alone, even if it’s not her idea of fun.

  I put down my phone and eat my breakfast. The muffin is warm, and I slather it with butter—no mother to tell me not to. The yogurt and granola are delicious, too, as is the coffee.

  It’s probably especially delicious since he set it up for me. He woke up early to bake me muffins!

  The thought makes me almost giddy.

  After I finish eating and wash my dishes, I look around the room. It’s eight o’clock and Peter said he’d be back at five.

  Hmm, what should I do?

  * * *

  By two o’clock, I’ve watched six episodes of a TV show, read for an hour, and eaten leftovers for lunch. I heated up the turkey and a little dressing in a frying pan with lots of gravy. I also helped myself to another muffin because they really are delicious.

  Now, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, another cup of coffee in front of me, enjoying the light in Peter’s apartment at this time of day.

  All of a sudden, a strange urge comes over me.

  I picture myself sitting here with my laptop, working on some code. The joy of finally, finally figuring out a problem and fixing a bug.

  I like making things, but not building something physical like a chair or table, or sewing a dress. We spend so much time on our computers and phones, and that’s what I like to make: software. Something that does what I want it to do.

  I haven’t had this urge in a long time.

  I miss my job.

  Of course, my job wasn’t exactly what I thought it was—or rather, the people at my job weren’t who I thought they were, and afterward, nobody would hire me.

  Sure, people talk about getting more women to study STEM, but what we need more than anything is for men to stop chasing out the women who are already there and want to stay. Like me.

  Something clenches painfully in my chest.

  I take a deep breath and blow on my coffee.

  It’s okay, it really is.

  I’m working with my best friend, and I’m fake dating—real dating, perhaps?—an amazing guy who is letting me spend the whole day in his apartment. He baked me muffins and gave me a great orgasm last night, and he didn’t even blink at the strange way my body acts.

  Something catches my eye on the fridge. I walk ove
r, and sure enough, it’s the puppy card I gave Peter, held to the fridge with a caterpillar magnet.

  I smile. Life is perfect.

  Almost.

  Chapter 17

  Peter

  “Valerie?” I walk into my apartment and hang my keys on the rack by the door.

  “In here!” she calls.

  Sounds like she’s in the washroom, and my heart beats quicker. I suspect she’s naked, and Valerie in the nude is the stuff of my dreams.

  And yesterday, my reality.

  I slip off my shoes and find her partially reclined in the bathtub with a glass of white wine, the smile on her face unlike any I’ve seen before.

  She looks serene.

  “Have a good day?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the tub.

  “The best.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t communicate with anyone—other than a few texts—and it was glorious.”

  I’m more social than she is, and I don’t understand the intense craving to be alone, but I love giving her what she wants.

  “What about you?” she asks. “Trim any hedge labyrinths for rich dudes?”

  “Actually, yes.” I smile at her. I would love to come home to her every day. Valerie Chow in my bathtub? Yeah, I could certainly get used to that.

  She sits up, and water droplets run down the slopes of her breasts.

  God, seeing her in the bath is giving me ideas.

  “I have to admit something,” she says. “I’ve been in the tub a very long time. I wanted you to come home and find me in the bath, and you took a little longer than I expected.”

  I chuckle at the same time as my body pumps blood to my cock. “You wanted me to find you in the bath? Why, may I ask, is that?”

  “You know why.”

  “No, I don’t. Enlighten me, please.”

  She shoots me a glare.

  I’ve become quite fond of her glares.

  I pull my shirt over my head and toss it on the floor, and I grin at the way her gaze slides over my chest. “You know,” I say, “I’ve been working outside all day. I’m covered in sweat and dirt. I’d better get in there with you so I can get clean.”

  She laughs as I lower myself into the tub and begin trailing kisses up her neck.