Best of Penny Wylder: Virgin Romance

by Wylder, Penny

  Pierce seems to agree, from the way his eyes graze my skin. I feel hot everywhere he looks, set aflame. I've never had a guy look at me like this before. It's more than simple desire, more than I want to tap that. He wants to take me, possess me. Use me in ways I probably haven't even imagined.

  I want to learn exactly what he has planned for me. Already I can feel myself getting wet between the thighs.

  "How's this, sir?" I lean toward the camera, smiling right at the lens. "Do you like what you see, sir?"

  "Speak only when I ask you to," is his only reply. "And take off your jeans, too."

  I unbutton those, and shimmy out of them. The underwear doesn't match the bra, but it's cute too, a narrow little red cheeky number. Thank god you can’t tell from the camera’s point-of-view that said panties are already getting damp. I wouldn’t want him to think I’m too easy.

  Or would I?

  "Turn around," he says, and I immediately spin so my back faces the camera. "Slower," he barks.

  I rotate slowly, swaying my hips as I do, peeking over my shoulder to study his reaction. Unless I'm mistaken, he's breathing a little faster now, leaning closer to his screen. His pupils have dilated too, and he can't seem to tear them from my ass.

  That is, after all, my best feature. I've got a narrow waist, and fairly small chest, but I more than make up for it with my hips and ass. Especially in these cheeky panties. My butt is muscled and pert and I can already imagine his hands on it, squeezing my ass as he pulls my body against his hard chest. Thinking about it, I can’t help running my hands over my hips, letting my fingers trail over my tight ass, pretending it’s him.

  He exhales sharply. "Turn back around.”

  I obey.

  “Have you ever had sex with a man, Bonnie?"

  I shake my head. "No, sir."

  "Why not?"

  It takes me a second to recover from that blunt question. "Uh. I guess . . . I never found the right guy. And then it was too late."

  "What do you mean too late?"

  I grimace. I didn't mean to say that. "I mean, too late to lose it casually, you know? It became a big deal that I hadn't, and then it seemed weird—"

  "Stop that."

  I freeze, unsure what I've done. "Stop what, sir?"

  He points. "Crossing your arms."

  I didn't even notice I had. But sure enough, I'd crossed my arms over my chest, and started to hunch in on myself, self-conscious about being semi-naked in front of this guy. I force myself to unfold them, slowly, and press my palms against my thighs to keep them there.

  "What about women?" he asks.

  I blush. "No, sir. I don't swing that way, sir."

  He smiles sideways. "You never know." He winks, and for the first time since we started talking, I glimpse a real person there, behind this confident, sexy conversationalist. Then he's moving on, swiftly, to the next order of business. "What about fingering. Has a man ever finger-fucked you?"

  I flush. "No, sir."

  "Have you kissed a man?"

  "Of course. I mean, yes, sir. A couple."

  "Did they get under your shirt?"

  "One, sir."

  "And did he fuck those pert little tits of yours?"

  If I thought I was red before, it's got nothing on me now. "I . . . How do you even—no, sir."

  He's chuckling softly, eyes crinkled at the edges in genuine amusement. Well, at least someone is enjoying making me uncomfortable.

  To be honest, though, now that I'm in my underwear, I can feel the faint breeze in my room against the fabric of my panties, and I am acutely aware that he's not the only one enjoying this. I'm even starting to relax a little, adjusting to being mostly naked on camera. I look fucking hot, judging by the little corner of the screen that shows me his view.

  I wonder vaguely if I should be nervous about baring it on cam. But it's not like guys haven't seen me in bikinis before. That's as much fabric as I'm wearing right now. If he asks me to go any farther, I think I'll hesitate. Videos like this get leaked of girls all the time, circulated to their friends, their teachers . . . Their grandmothers, I think, and it takes every ounce of effort I have not to flinch.

  Gram would literally die if she could see me right now. So, no complete nudity on cam.

  Thankfully, without me needing to say so, Pierce seems to sense that's a line I won't cross. Unfortunately, he seems much more interested in baring me verbally before him. "What about your ass? Has anyone fucked that gorgeous ass of yours, Bonnie?"

  "N-no, sir." Fuck I am so wet right now. The idea of anal terrifies me, but hearing him talk about fucking me so straightforwardly . . .

  "Good. Have you had a man's cock in your mouth? Have you ever licked a man's balls, or wrapped those perfect, sexy lips of yours around his dick?"

  "No, sir," I breathe. Suddenly I'm finding it hard to keep my voice even. My heart is beating rabbit-fast, and the tingles have spread from my stomach all the way down to my toes.

  "I'm glad to hear it, Bonnie. Do you know why?"

  Thud. Thud. Thud. My heart beats so loud it's a wonder he can't hear it through his speakers. "Why, sir?"

  "Because I am purchasing your virginity, Bonnie. If you agree to this contract, that means I get to take every single virginity you have. You will be mine, until I have taken what I want. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir." My nipples actually ache, they're pressing into my bra so hard. My knees are trembling, and not from fear anymore.

  I have never been this turned-on in my life.

  Still, my mind keeps darting back to the questions he asked. About anal. About oral.

  "But . . ."

  "Are you still interested in pursuing this contract with me, Bonnie?" He cuts me off. "Be very sure of your answer. I want you to want this as much as I do." His eyes bore into mine. I couldn't look away if I wanted to, and oh, I do not want to. "When I fuck you, Bonnie, I intend to make you come so hard you forget your name. You will enjoy yourself. You will fucking love it. And when I am finished fucking your mouth and your ass and your pussy, and when I've made you cum enough to please me, you will be paid in full. But I am doing this for my pleasure. Your number one priority will be pleasing me, for the duration of our contract."

  "I understand, sir," I reply through trembling lips. What am I saying? Have I really thought this through? And what does he mean, all my virginity? "I just have some concerns . . ."

  "Naturally," he says. "But you must understand. This is a one-time offer. All or nothing. That's what I'm paying for."

  Don't do this, screams the sensible half of my brain. But the blood has all flooded from my brain to my pussy now, and it's not really my sensible half calling the shots anymore.

  Besides, even my sensible half is desperately, painfully aware of how much I need this money. Not just for me. For Gram. For my future, for school. Hell, with that kind of dough, I could swing for an apartment for Erin and I next year where we don't have to fend off roaches on a regular basis.

  I swallow hard, trying to wet my suddenly dry tongue. "I want to do this, sir. I want you to . . ." I trail off, hot in the face.

  "Say it. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Bonnie."

  I swallow hard and lean in close to the laptop. "I want you to fuck me," I whisper.

  Bang bang bang.

  I leap back from the computer like I've been scalded, yelping. But it's only Erin outside, pounding on my bedroom door.

  "I come bearing Starbucks," she yells. "Get it while it's hot, Sleeping Beauty!" She starts to turn the knob, because we have a pretty casual "come in unless there's a scrunchie hanging on my doorknob" policy (and of course, the only scrunchies around here have been on her door, not mine).

  I leap across the room to catch it and hold the door shut. "Be out in a second!" I shout, my voice strangled and tense. "Just changing real quick."

  "My bad. Be in the kitchen," she calls back, and her footsteps creak off across the living room. I sag against the door with a gasp of reli
ef.

  That's when I hear Pierce's laughter again, and I realize the speakers are far too loud now that Erin is home. I dart back to the laptop to quiet him, and find him smirking at me. He's enjoying this way too much, the bastard.

  "I am based in San Francisco. You are in Oakland, I understand?" he adds nonchalantly, getting right back to business, and I gape at him again.

  "How did you . . . ?"

  "The FIDM sweatshirt." He grins. "I love a girl who prioritizes education."

  I narrow my eyes. "Yeah, well. Don't judge a book by its cover. I don't go to FIDM."

  "Doesn't mean you don't prioritize your education, does it?"

  I roll said narrowed eyes. But I shake my head, sighing. "Fair point, I guess. Sir," I add, slightly sarcastically.

  His smile widens. "In the future, when you sass me, it will cost you."

  Feeling emboldened by his desire, and by standing in my lingerie in front of a webcam for the last ten minutes, I lean in toward the screen. "Oh really?" I grin. "Is that a threat or a promise, sir?"

  His eyes widen, and so does that sharp smile of his. "I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy my time with you, Bonnie. Very, very much."

  The pulse of desire radiates throughout my body, until I feel it from the top of my head all the way to my fingertips. I want him. Oh, fuck, I want him bad. My heart slams against my ribcage, nervous and excited and panicking all at once.

  "One more thing. Before we meet, I would like you to have your pussy waxed. Full Brazilian."

  My mouth drops open. That was not part of the bargain.

  But he talks right through my shock. "Go to the Luxe Gold Salon in downtown San Francisco. Tomorrow at noon. They'll be expecting you." He smirks again, and that smile has probably caused whole legions of women to fall to their knees before him. "The salon manager will have your instructions following that. And don't worry about your . . . wardrobe." His gaze darts to the corner of my screen, clearly eying the pile of clothes I've got stacked there. "I'll send something over for you to wear."

  Before I can protest, because there's oh so much to protest—how does he know I'm free tomorrow at noon? What does he mean I need to get a full Brazilian just so he can fuck away my V-card? And what the hell does sending something for me to wear mean? —he's ended the call. I'm left staring at a black, empty screen, with a thundering pulse, and an absolute puddle between my legs.

  He might be hot—okay, ridiculously so, which is definitely a bonus when it comes to agreeing to fuck him—but he's a cocky asshole, too. Adding on all these caveats last minute—I have to get waxed, I have to wear some suitable outfit he chooses, because nothing I own could be good enough for him, clearly. Two can play at that game.

  He wants to pay for my virginity, and he'll get it. My regular virginity. Normal sex, nothing else. Nothing kinky or crazy. If he's making me rip out all my pubic hair just to fuck him, it's the least I can stipulate.

  I stand in the middle of my room, formulating this plan, staring at my blank computer screen, for at least a few minutes. Until I hear Erin shouting from the kitchen, something muffled about coffee break. Then I snap back to attention and pull my jeans back on, nabbing my discarded shirt.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  3

  "How are you feeling, Gram?" I hold her arm as she makes her third circuit of the gardens outside the temporary home where she's staying, which is already costing me an arm and a leg every night. At least that price comes with certain privileges, like how I bullied my way in to visit even though technically I missed visiting hours (thanks a lot Pierce with the spontaneous and distracting webcam call).

  I don't even want to think about the loan bills racking up with every day that she remains in here. Not to mention the credit card I had to charge my rent to last month.

  "I told you, Bonnie, I'm feeling fine," she grumps, because it is the third time I've asked her, to be fair. But according to the nurses, she was anything but fine today. Her PT session was a disaster, and there was a particularly scary moment where she forgot her general practitioner's name, a man she's known for at least five years.

  I can't even begin to think about losing her. I know she's getting older—it's inevitable. And I know that one day, I'll need to face a world without her in it. But I can't bear the idea. She's my only family left, since Mom passed, and my father was never in the picture. She raised me from the time I was eight years old. She's the only real parent I've ever known.

  I can't lose her. Not yet.

  But she's also never been one for talking about being sick. Or admitting she's human. Even when she had pneumonia once, when I was fifteen, she ignored the symptoms and kept working. Right up until she collapsed in the middle of a shift at the hospital. Her supervisor forced her to take 3 days off, but after that she was right back up and at 'em, saving lives and helping people.

  She's the reason I decided to become a nurse. Trailing around after her at the hospital was where I first fell in love with the idea of helping to care for the sick.

  Carers don't like to let people take care of them, I guess. Against their nature. I squeeze Gram's arm tighter. "Just listen to the doctors, okay? And take it easy when they tell you to. They told me about you wandering around after curfew, you know."

  She huffs. "Well it's ridiculous. I'm not a child. I'm a grown-ass woman who can take care of myself."

  I stare at her pointedly. "And why did you leave the ward at three in the morning, Gram?"

  That huff turns into a sigh. "I was craving gummy bears from the visitors vending machine."

  "Right. Sounds very grown-up," I tease with a smirk.

  "When did you become such a smart aleck?" she grumbles. But she's smiling, so I know she doesn't really mind. "Anyway, enough about me and my old bones. Tell me about yourself. Your stories keep me young at heart." Her eyes twinkle as she smiles up at me.

  Up. Because she's shrunk in the last few years, not because I've grown. We used to be exactly the same height, 5'4", and I loved that. Now I feel abandoned here, as she's shrinking away.

  I shake myself to attention. "Oh, not much. Work is as miserable as ever. Paul's still a jerkwad."

  "And school?"

  "Going okay." I shrug, feeling a pang of guilt. I haven't worked on prepping for my next exam, and it's in just a week and a half. I really need to get on that. "I guess a little hectic. But nothing new."

  "This is not keeping me very young." Gram clucks her tongue. "No exciting adventures or wild nights out with Erin? No suspicious young men I should be interrogating or threatening, hmm?" She grins, and I groan and turn my head away.

  Mostly to hide the flush across my cheeks. Oh yeah, Gram. This hot new guy, total asshole, who I'm about to sleep with for a bucketload of money.

  That would go over great.

  "I shall take that as a negative." Gram shakes her head. "Well, all's the better I suppose. You can't go getting distracted from your studies, not now. The right man will come along when you least expect him. Until then, you're smart." She pats my arm with a smile. "Keep your eye on the prize, and everything else will work itself out."

  Oh, Gram. I am keeping my eye on the prize, trust me. But the prize, for me, would be keeping her whole and healthy as long as I can.

  I'm not ready to navigate this crazy world on my own yet.

  * * *

  "Right, what's going on?"

  I freeze in the middle of the living room, as the kettle whistles from the stove. It's been twenty-four hours since I first met Pierce. Well, "met" via the computer, I guess. And already I'm about to head off to let some strange woman get all up in my business, seeing parts of my body no one else has, just to please him. I wonder if he convinces every woman he fucks to jump through this many hoops?

  Thinking about those wolfish eyes of his, and that predatory grin, it's not hard to imagine. I'm pretty sure every woman on the planet would say "how high?" if he told them to jump.

  But, I haven't exactly mentioned any of
this to my roommate. I force a huge smile and face Erin. "What do you mean?"

  She smirks. "Well, I wasn't sure. Until you put your guilty face on just now." She takes a running leap onto the couch, sending my laptop bouncing through the air. "Tell me, Bonnie! Are you quitting your job? Starting a secret business empire?" Her smile turns sly and knowing. "Is it a boyyyyy?"

  "It's nothing!" I protest, snatching the kettle from the stove as it continues to whistle at a deafening pitch.

  "Bullshit. You were closed in your room talking to someone yesterday, now you're up way before noon, when I know for a fact you don't have classes today and you don't start your diner shift until 7 tonight."

  "Do you memorize my schedule, you creeper?" I laugh, back still turned to her. I wonder how much more noise she'd be making just now if she found out I called out of my shift tonight, asked Raul to cover. It's the first time I've called off of work in the entire time I've worked there. Normally I work right through sick days. But I faked vomiting sounds on the phone, and I guess Paul was afraid enough about the potential for cross-infection with the food that he let me switch. Projectile vomit and waiters do not make for a healthy combo.

  "You've only had the same one for a year." Erin splays across the couch. "Not my fault I'm observant."

  "Well, observe your own business," I call over my shoulder. But by the time I've poured the tea, I turn around to find her full-on pouting at me. Puppy dog eyes and all. Shit. I can never resist those.

  "Come on, I share all my good stories with you. Even the embarrassing ones! I told you about hooking up with Chaz, for chrissake."

  "Okay, okay." I huff. "You don't have to guilt-trip me." I hold up my steaming mug of tea and another bare palm in the universal sign of surrender.

  "So it is a guy!" Erin squeals and sits up on the couch, clapping her hands. "Who is he? Where'd you meet? What's he like?"

  "We haven't met yet!" I protest. "It's probably nothing. I don't know."

  "Oooh, a hookup? Has our sweet little Bonnie finally decided to slut it up?" Erin leaps off the couch to catch my shoulders and size me up. I'm in my usual jeans and a tighter T-shirt than usual, but nothing special. After all, Pierce is dressing me up like his personal doll anyway, so why bother?