The Virgin Romance Novelist

by Meghan Quinn

  Concentrating on what Lance said to me, rather than dry humping his leg, I brought my arm back and walked up to the edge of the alley. With a strong thrust, I threw my arm forward and released the ball. I watched with my hands linked together as the ball went straight into the gutter.

  “Damn.”

  I turned to look at Lance, who had a giant grin on his face, but was shaking his head as well. He walked up to me and lifted my chin while pulling me into his chest. My hands went instinctively to his hips, where I could feel myself start to shake from the close contact. I wish I could be one of those girls who wasn’t affected by close intimacy, but I wasn’t. I was nervous, one hundred percent, a sweaty hot mess of nerves.

  “That was a good try.”

  “It was kind of pathetic.”

  “It kind of was,” he chuckled. “You got this next one, though. Remember, straight arm and get lower to the ground…that might help.”

  “Got it, straight arm and low to the floor.”

  He rubbed my cheek with his thumb and then pulled away. I wanted to cry and tell him to come back, but I held on to my self-respect, turned around and got my ball, which was just spit out by the crazy ball returning thing. That contraption was scary, visions of my head getting stuck in it frightened me every time I went near it.

  With confidence, I got in my stance, looked at the arrows and then started walking toward the alley as my arm started to swing back. I squatted down and threw the ball forward just as I heard a loud rip and a gush of air go straight up to Virginia.

  I froze in place as I tried to will time to rewind, because I was pretty sure I’d just split my pants from Virginia to the Great and Powerful Asshole.

  Some onlookers might have thought I was freezing my bowling pose by the frozen stature I immediately adopted, but little did they know, I was trying to mentally call up Scotty to beam me the hell out of the bowling alley.

  Too bad Scotty was retired now, the bastard.

  What the hell was I supposed to do? Did I get up? If I got up, I would have to explain what the hell just happened, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, but then again, I was wearing a thong and right now, I was squatting, meaning…

  Holy shit.

  I stood straight as a rod and turned around quickly, hiding my butt from Lance, so only the pins could see the mess that was my backside.

  Out of all the days to choose to wear a thong. It was my punishment, it had to be.

  There are moments in a person’s life where you really think if you died, the situation in front of you wouldn’t be better, and that’s how I was feeling, because all I could think about was the bleached asshole I had and it lighting up like the damn North Star under the black lights. Wasn’t sure if it was possible, but if it was, it would happen to me. With my luck, three kings would be walking through the door any minute now with presents for Virginia, and a camel would be harnessed outside chewing on a bale of hay.

  “You got two pins!” Lance cheered as he walked toward me, causing me to walk backward. He couldn’t come close to me. How the hell was I going to get out of this? “What’s wrong?” Lance asked, concerned. “Careful!” he called out as I continued to back up.

  With one wrong step, I felt the grip of my shoe seize and slip on the grease from the alley.

  My legs twisted under me, and right when I thought things couldn’t get worse, my legs flew out from under me and I fell backward, legs spread and up in the air, exposing my ripped crotch and matching neon green thong.

  To hold on that last ounce of self-respect I had left, I clenched my ass cheeks tightly together, just in case the Great and Powerful tried to peek through.

  “Oh, shit,” Lance said, while grabbing my arms and pulling me into his chest. He walked me over to the seats and crouched in front of me.

  I clenched my legs tight and buried my head in my hands.

  “I split my pants,” I muttered in mortification.

  “It’s okay,” he rubbed the top of my thighs. “Believe me, I’ve done it too, right in the middle of a photo shoot, where everyone saw my package fall right out of my jeans.”

  “Your balls?” I asked, peeking through my hands.

  Laughing, he nodded. “Yes, my balls. I don’t tend to wear underwear, so when I split my pants, everyone got a great view of the hanging twins.”

  A small smile spread across my face, but I was still mortified. This was something I wouldn’t get over easily. I split my pants in front of my date.

  “Here, take my cardigan, wrap it around your waist, and we’ll get you home so you can change. How does that sound?”

  I just nodded my head as I took his cardigan and wrapped it around my waist, wanting to wilt and just sit in a dark hole all by myself.

  The date was over. I didn’t talk much as we took a cab back to my apartment. I just stared out the window, completely removing myself from the present. There was nothing I could really say; I was mortified for many reasons.

  When we pulled up in front of my apartment, Lance kindly told the cabbie to wait as he walked me to my door.

  We reached the front of the door and I started pulling off his cardigan, but he stopped me.

  “Give it back to me on our next date.”

  “You want another date?”

  “Of course. Do you think a tear in the pants is going to deter me? Come on, Rosie. I’m better than that. I like you, a lot. I kind of think it’s cute what happened.”

  “How is that cute? You saw my Virginia.”

  Throwing his head back and laughing, he said, “Your Virginia? Oh, that’s amazing. And, no, I didn’t see your Virginia. I did see a pretty hot piece of underwear, though.”

  He gathered me closer and pressed his hands on my lower back, bringing me into his chest. One of his hands ran up to my cheek, where he ran his thumb gently.

  “See me again?”

  “No more bowling?” I asked with a slight smile, warming up from his touch.

  “No bowling,” he agreed.

  I watched as he pulled me in closer and my breath caught in my chest as his head lowered to mine. I quickly wet my lips and pressed my hands against his chest as his lips connected with mine. The hand which was on my back now ran up my neck and into my hair, making every single nerve ending in my body stand on end.

  His soft lips played with mine, providing me with confidence, so I ran my hands up his chest and linked my hands together behind his neck to hold on better. I felt him moving me backward and let him as he pressed me against the side of my building and deepened our kiss.

  So, I’ve been kissed before, but nothing like this, nothing that made my toes curl, that made Virginia cry out in joy, that had me wanting to rip the man’s clothes off. Was this what it felt like to feel randy? To feel completely out of control? To need a man so badly that you were going to claw his clothes right off?

  It was.

  Welcome to the real world, Rosie. This was what all those books I read were talking about, all-consuming passion.

  Just when I was settling in for a long night of lips locked on the stoop of my apartment building, Lance pulled away, looking a little dazed…a look I was most likely sporting as well.

  He touched my cheek again and said, “I’ll call you, Rosie.”

  I just nodded and watched him walk away, while Virginia squealed with delight. I was so glad she approved.

  Once the cab took off, I ran upstairs, into my room and shut my door. I needed to write in my journal, and talking to my friends was something I wanted to avoid at the moment.

  I was on such a high, I really didn’t want to rehash everything, I just wanted to revel in the kiss I just shared on the stoop of my apartment while I stood under the stars with an incredibly sexy man with…my pants ripped.

  June 6, 2014

  Pretty sure I almost had an orgasm today just from Lance’s kiss. He is so sexy and understanding and sweet. There has to be something wrong with him, because there is no way a guy that amazing could be that perf
ect, but for now, I won’t dwell on what could be wrong because HOLY CRAP, I was just kissed senseless. That kiss made up for an almost shining appearance from the North Star.

  Note to self: check pants longevity before wearing them on dates, because they are bound to rip if they are old. Plus, never get asshole bleached again, bad decisions all around.

  Chapter Nine

  Man Milk Mutilator

  I was able to avoid my roommates all night last night, but now that it was Sunday morning and they were starting to trickle out of their rooms from their slumbers, avoidance was impossible. Henry was wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants…and that was it. His hair was pushed to the side from his pillow, creating a rather hilarious bed head effect. Delaney walked out of her room wearing a long shirt and her pink slippers.

  Together, they traveled like zombies straight to the coffee maker, where there was some fresh brew waiting for them. I was that nice.

  I sat on one of the kitchen stools, watching them while sipping on my own cup of coffee. I waited for the caffeine to touch their lips to see them light up and realize I was in the kitchen, waiting for their questions.

  As usual¸ Henry was the first one to perk up, since it always took Delaney longer. He rubbed the side of his head and gave me a lazy smile.

  “Good morning, love. How was the date? I tried asking you last night, but you were already asleep. I hope everything went well.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and smiled over my coffee cup.

  Henry stopped in his tracks, mug half way to his mouth when he said, “Did you lose your virginity?”

  “No! Really, Henry? On the first date?” I laughed at the look on his face.

  Relief flashed through his eyes as he settled in next to me.

  “From the look in your eyes, you can’t blame me for asking. So, what happened?”

  “He kissed me,” I said with a bright smile, still remembering how it felt to be held by Lance, to have his lips on mine, demanding more.

  “Did he kiss your pussy?” Delaney asked from where she was perched on the counter. Her voice sounded like a seventy year old smoker. She had the most amazing morning voice ever. Sometimes, when we were all drunk, Henry and I would try to imitate it, but Derk was the only one who came close to doing justice to the impersonation.

  “No, why would you ask that?”

  “Just wondering. Didn’t know if there were more juicy details than just a kiss.”

  “It wasn’t just a kiss,” I replied. “He was sweet and tender…”

  “Don’t say tender,” Delaney held up her hand. “God, I hate that word. And moist. When you’re writing, please make sure never to say his tender hands ran up my moist lady folds. God, I gag just thinking about it.”

  “Okay,” I dragged out. “Moist and tender are stricken from my vocabulary. Henry, would you like me to remove any words as well?”

  “Choad, that word is nasty.”

  “Why would I ever use that word?”

  “Who knows? You’re a loose cannon.”

  That was true, especially since I was so easily influenced by the books I read. For heaven’s sake, before my conversation with Henry, I was thinking about what other things could be held in a woman’s butt hole.

  “So, anything else happen?” Delaney asked, changing the subject back to the date.

  I grimaced as I set my coffee cup down.

  “The night was going fantastic…”

  “Was going? Uh oh, what happened?” Henry interrupted.

  “Let her tell the story,” Delaney said, while smacking his shoulder and sitting on the counter next to me, snuggling up for story time.

  “The night was going fantastic,” I repeated. “I bowled terribly, and he was great, of course.” Henry rolled his eyes. “We had a nice conversation at the bar for a bit, talking about traveling and where we would want to go.”

  “Iceland,” Henry said while pointing at me.

  “Henry, let her talk,” Delaney reprimanded.

  “Yes, I told him about Iceland and he didn’t judge me. He actually had a friend who went to Iceland and said it was gorgeous. Anyway, we decided to bowl again. Since I was so bad, he thought it would be helpful to give me some pointers…”

  “Classic move to get close to you,” Henry interrupted again.

  “I will cut your balls off if you get in the way of this story one more time,” Delaney warned, causing Henry to back off.

  Don’t mess with Delaney when she was ripe out of bed.

  “Coffee,” Derk mumbled, as he shuffled out of Delaney’s room and into the kitchen.

  “Shh!” Delaney said, while pointing to the pot that was already made. Derk wasn’t looking much

  better than Delaney; they must have gone out clubbing, one of their favorite things to do. Right about now, they could win best mug shot if put up against the wall in the police station.

  “He was giving you pointers…” Delaney helped lead me on.

  “Yes, so I decided to take them, and the first one I tossed landed right in the gutter. I wasn’t very successful. I think it’s because my thumb was hurting…the ball was kind of small for me, the holes that is. So, he encouraged me some more, stood behind me and waited for me to throw the ball again.”

  “Holy shit, you threw the ball backwards and tossed it right into his nut sac, didn’t you?” Henry said with a giant grin.

  “No!” I defended myself.

  “Henry!” Delaney said, as she flew across the counter holding up a pen as a weapon.

  Laughing, Henry backed up and asked me to continue.

  “I didn’t throw the bowling ball into his crotch.”

  “Sorry, but it would only make sense after your date on Friday. You’re a ball crusher.”

  “Semen smasher,” Derk chimed in, looking livelier.

  “Jiz jostler.”

  “Man milk mutilator.”

  “Good one,” Henry said, while giving Derk a fist bump.

  “Do you want to hear the story or not?” I asked, now getting frustrated.

  “Sorry, please proceed, love,” Henry said with an endearing look. Frustrating man!

  “So, I was throwing the ball forward, and as I bent down to release, my pants ripped from crotch to ass, right on the seam.”

  My friends sat silent and stared at me, not making a move to say anything, so that’s when I showed them my pants that were folded on the counter. I shook them out and stuck my hand through the gaping hole in the crotch to prove my point.

  Delaney was the first to crack as she busted out in laughter, followed by Derk and Henry, who grabbed the jeans from me and inspected them.

  “Only you,” Henry shook his head while examining the crotch. “What did you do?” he asked, clearly concerned, but with a little amusement still left in his voice.

  “Well, clearly, I was mortified and stood there for a second, bent over, hoping nothing was showing, and that’s when I remembered I was in a black light situation with a freshly bleached butthole…”

  “Wait, what?” Derk asked, while looking over at Delaney. “You made her bleach her butthole? Why would you do that?”

  Delaney looked down at her nails and said, “There is too much butthole talk in this apartment. Honestly, can’t we be adults and talk about something else?”

  “No,” Derk said, matter-of-factly. “Why did she get her butthole bleached?”

  “I didn’t tell her to do it; Marta did.”

  Derk shook his head and took a drink from his coffee. “I can’t wrap my head around that right now. Bloom, tell us why it mattered about your bleached ass.”

  “Duh, I didn’t want it lighting up for the world to see under the black lights.”

  It made perfect sense to me, but apparently Henry, Delaney and Derk thought I was joking, because at the same time, they all threw their heads back and roared with laughter while grabbing onto their stomachs.

  “Please don’t tell me you think the black lights would have made that thing glow,”
Delaney offered.

  “I don’t know. They might have.”

  “Rosie, your asshole was bleached, not dipped in radioactive materials. That is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. Please don’t tell me you actually believed that.”

  I just shrugged my shoulders, because frankly, I was deathly scared of things lighting up down there from the black lights. I had no clue what Marta did to me. For all I knew, she could have pierced the damn thing; I wouldn’t have felt it, not after the ass ripping she gave me right before.

  “That’s beside the point,” Henry cut in. “I want to know what you did.”

  Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Lance noticed something was wrong immediately, so he started to come toward me, which I didn’t want, given my predicament, so I backed up into the alley and slipped on the grease they use to help the balls roll, falling straight on my ass and exposing my ripped jeans for Lance. Gave him a front row seat actually.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Henry shook his head, while Delaney and Derk tried to contain their smirks.

  “Yeah, he was pretty sweet about it, though. He told me about a time he split his pants and then he gave me his cardigan so I could walk out of the bowling alley with a shred of dignity. He brought me back here, and that’s when he kissed me outside our apartment. It was fantastic.”

  “Besides the jeans ripping and exposing Virginia to Lance on the first night, I would say you had a good date,” Henry said.

  “We did. He asked me to go out again.”

  “Do you want to see him again?” Delaney asked, while Derk sidled up next to her to place a hand on her bare thigh.

  “I do,” I admitted, wanting what Delaney had with Derk. “I’m just nervous for two reasons. First of all, I have that date with Alejandro tomorrow. Do I cancel it or do I still go on it?”

  “You have no commitment to Lance, you aren’t exclusive, so I say still go on the date,” Delaney said. “Right, Henry?”