F*cking Awkward

by Anthology

  I push through my lips and find the entire area wet.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  When I spread myself apart with both hands, the fan’s air “touches” my delicate skin in the same pattern as the fan blade spins. My whole bottom region clenches in preparation, then I reach a finger out to explore.

  Tap. Tap. Swish. Tap. Tap. Slide. What I feel is unexpected. Slick. Sensitive. Strange.

  I reach farther down to find my opening.

  Ready, Jill? One. Two. Three. Before I lose my nerve, I jam a finger inside up to my second knuckle. Ouch.

  Do penises really fit in there? No way one of those will ever fit inside me. At least, not the gigantic ones I saw in the porn videos. Nope. Maybe a skinny one, though. Like pencil-sized. Or not.

  I withdraw my finger until just the tip is inside and move it in a slow wiggle. Then I start a small rhythmic pulse—in and out. Yeah, this works. I’m more careful when I push my whole finger back in and swirl it around. Hey, it’s spongy in there. Who knew?

  With my right hand still exploring all the inner parts, I skim the left one up my stomach making swirly designs with my fingertips. Goosebumps pucker my skin and I take one sweep higher than the others to graze my nipple. It’s hard and I poke at it with a finger over my tank top.

  Poke poke poke.

  Eh.

  Swipe. Swipe. Rub.

  Ahh.

  The teasing massage on my nipple combined with the sensation caused by my other probing hand brings my body to an entirely new level of excitement. And…there’s one more part of my body I need to find—my clit-o-ris. Hahaha. My clitoris. It’s where Erika said the magic happens, right?

  My finger is sticky when I pull it out of my body, but I don’t waste time worrying about what that goo is on my hand. I’m on a mission to see what will happen when I touch my magic clitoris. I mean, what will happen?

  My fingers explore and then brush against some new part of my anatomy that feels better than anything else in the area.

  There she is.

  I’m beyond delicate examination. I dive in with the press and rub technique. It seems to work, so I do it again. And again. Until I’m lost in this unusually good feeling. When I let my mind go, again, it goes right to Caden and James, again.

  My freak brain pictures the guys touching my breasts, kissing my neck, rubbing their-gasp!-penises against me, using a finger to touch me right where I’m, oh, ohh, rocking hard against my own hand as I rub out a unique rhythm in tune with my needs.

  The throbbing heat between my legs reaches to a new level. My legs shake like when I’m doing sixty-second wall squats and my butt squeezes like I’m—

  Wait. Wait. Wait! This is crazy. What the hell am I doing?

  I freeze. Then, very slowly, I pull my hands away from their respective places on my body.

  The ache is so much worse than before I started touching myself, but I can’t do this…thing. It’s too weird. And after the night I’ve had, I’m not sure I can handle anything else on the weird-scale.

  I find my phone on the nightstand and call James. Maybe he can distract me from this insanity. Besides, we talk most nights before going to bed, so calling him will keep things “normal” between us.

  The line picks up before the first ring finishes, but James doesn’t say hello. Instead, he just breathes in a rushed, choppy way like he’s working out hard. Or maybe like a creeper.

  “Hey, James.”

  “Jillsssss,” he exhales. Definitely creeper-like.

  “Yep. It’s me, dork-boy.”

  He doesn’t respond directly, but he starts to pant. At least I think he’s panting. Maybe he really is exercising, but why so late at night?

  “James? Hey. What are you—?”

  “Ohhh, fuck. Fuck. Jillsssss…”

  I’ve never heard him say my name that way before—low and guttural—like he’s in pain. Maybe he needs help.

  “James. JAMES! Are you okay?” I say in a loud whisper so I don’t wake my parents up.

  “Jills? Huh? Where are you?”

  There’s a clunking noise like the phone dropped. Then James’ voice comes in clear through the speaker. “Jills, are you really there? Ohmygod.”

  “Of course it’s me. What—“

  Click.

  Before Caden can say hello, I start talking.

  “Go find James. The jerk just hung up on me.”

  “Seriously? Do you know what time it is, Jill?”

  I whine, “Do it, please,” until Caden reluctantly agrees to check on his brother.

  “Let me find a shirt first.”

  Shirtless, Caden. Oh my.

  I hear him moving around the room, muttering under his breath until he returns to the phone with an, “All right. Let’s go.”

  A few moments later, I hear knocking and the squeak of James’ door hinge—the same squeak that’s never been fixed the whole time we’ve been friends.

  Caden must cover the phone with his hand because there’s a long minute of muffled voices. Then he says, “Stay dry in your dreams, bro,” in sing-song voice before laughing at his own private joke.

  “Jill, hold on. Just heading back to my room.”

  Fine. Ugh. He knows I hate to wait.

  “Okay. You there?”

  “Uh, yeah. What’s going on? Why did James hang up on me? Is he mad because I yelled at him in the pool?” I’m in full ramble mode. “Is it because of what happened tonight? Because I kissed you— Him— We—?”

  “Whoa, Jill, slow down. Breathe.”

  He said the same thing to me in the treehouse.

  Caden exhales so deep I nearly feel it brush my ear through the phone. Then he mutters, “Fuck. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Caden?” What is going on?

  “Fuck,” he repeats.

  “Do what? Just tell me. Wait, is James okay?”

  Caden’s laugh surprises me given his distress a few seconds ago. “Yeah, he’s fine. And he’s sorry he hung up on you. He just got, well, startled when you called.”

  “What do you mean he got startled?”

  Caden doesn’t respond and it pisses me off. “What’s the deal, Caden?”

  “I’ll tell you,” he says, “but only if you promise not to interrupt. Think you can handle that, Jill?”

  Caden knows I don’t listen very well, but if he’s asking me to do it, there’s a reason. “Yes. C’mon.”

  “So you remember in the treehouse when we kissed and you felt me, I mean, you felt my penis get—? Then you saw James pop a tent in his shorts. Shit. This is hard, Jill.”

  I almost spit out, that’s what he said, but somehow hold my snarky comment through some miracle act of willpower.

  “Jill, it was awesome that you let me be your first kiss. What I didn’t expect was how hot it would be. You were— You are so innocent and, God, it’s a total turn-on.”

  Turn on. That phrase again.

  “I’m not sure you have any idea, Jill.”

  Oh, I do know how hot our kiss was because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his lips and his hands on me. And, oh yeah, that throb between my legs for the past hour? Yeah, I know turn-on, too.

  “It was even hot when you kissed James. I had no idea it would be, but… Hey, are you still there?”

  I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Yes, Caden. You asked me not to interrupt, remember?”

  “Yeah, right. Okay. So you know firsthand when guys experience something or someone so hot, our dicks get, well, hard. Kissing you got me hard and…apparently our kiss got to James, too.” His chuckle is nothing short of sexy. “You were so cute when you realized what was happening.” Then he adds with a sigh, “I’m sorry the whole thing freaked you out.”

  I was surprised to feel Caden’s erection after I’d kissed him for only a few minutes, but it was James’ “tented shorts” from watching us that freaked me out. I mean, penises. Everywhere.

  “It was weird, but I’m
over it now.”

  “I know, Jillian.”

  His use of my full name so often in one night confirms that something’s changed between us, but maybe in a way I didn’t anticipate. I mean, we’ve never talked like this before about such intimate things. And, if I’m honest, I don’t want Caden to stop talking about how he got turned on by kissing me.

  “When we were hanging out in the pool with you afterwards, Jill?” He takes an audible breath. “I was hard again seeing you in that pink bikini with your wet hair and…your boobs…and nipples. Oh, jeez, Jillian. You are fucking perfection.”

  I glance at my fingers playing lazily over my “perfect boobs.” That hand must have a mind of its own because I wasn’t even aware I was feeling myself up. And, yep, there are my hard nipples standing at attention while my fingers swirl over and around them.

  This sudden awareness stirs my body’s earlier arousal. Throbthrobthrob. The pattern pulses stronger than before and I slide my other hand to the spot between my legs. My fingers repeat the movements they learned earlier. Ahh.

  Caden’s still talking, “I’m pretty sure James was going crazy for you, too. I mean, he was an ass, as usual, but…Well, anyway, you heard what he thought about you and it must have carried over to his, umm, bedtime activities. When you called, he was…”

  “Don’t stop, Caden.” With one finger buried deep inside of me and my thumb pressed on my clitoris, I’m desperate to hear what Caden has to say next.

  “Are you sure you want to know, Jillian?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “When you called James, he was taking care of things. Jerking off. Masturbating. And when he heard your voice on the phone he got confused. He thought you were in his head. I mean, in the fantasy in his head, and so he, umm, finished. James ejaculated.”

  Jerking off. My voice. Ejaculated.

  Wow.

  “Do you mean he was thinking about me when he—”

  “Yes.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yeah.”

  I try to picture James jerking off. I mean I don’t know what his penis looks like, well, outside of the bulge in his shorts tonight, but I saw the penises in those porn videos. And, bingo, there it is. The image of James jerking off, right there in my head. Hot as hell.

  My fingers move a little faster.

  “Caden?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Jill?”

  “What’s it like?”

  After a few false starts he asks, “You want to know what it’s like to jerk off? Jesus, Jill. Really?”

  “You’ve done it, right?”

  Caden is quiet, but I know he’s there because I can still hear him breathing. It’s raspier than usual and I like the sound on him. A lot.

  “Is that too personal?” I ask.

  “After tonight, Jill?” He gives me that sexy laugh again. “I don’t think anything is too personal between us. I’m just trying to figure out how to explain it.”

  “Do you…” I chicken out from asking him about the image in my mind.

  “First, I use something to lube up my dick. Usually lotion.”

  Holy shit. He’s really telling me.

  “I stroke my dick down and up, again and again.” Caden takes a sharp inhale, then says, “Fuck, Jill. This conversation is so fucked up.” His voice is broken and conflicted, like he doesn’t know whether to finish what he started.

  “I don’t care. I want to know.” I whisper, my voice filled with hope and an urgency I need him to understand. Then I wait.

  When Caden continues, the calm confidence I’m used to hearing from him is back. “I usually start off slow. So it will feel good for as long as possible, you know?”

  The place between my legs knows.

  “But, at some point, I change the pace and go faster.” So does Caden’s breathing pattern. “Sometimes it’s a memory or a picture or a video that gets me going.”

  My hand speed increases yet again as I listen to him describe how he jerks off in detail. So like Caden. Self-assured and thorough.

  “I’ll grip myself tighter…” he gasps, “and move my hand faster.”

  Caden stops talking and I listen to his breaths grow harsher.

  The intense feeling of power that’s been growing in me hits its peak. This time, when the tightening feeling that frightened me before comes back, I don’t stop the momentum.

  I let my own gasp loose and somehow manage to say, “Caden, what’s it called when”—I gulp—“a girl…touches…I’ve been—”

  “Oh. My. God. Jillian. Are you— I’m— Ahhh, Jill.”

  His voice triggers an unfamiliar and welcome reaction. All of the tension that’s built up tonight…lets go… And while I register Caden moaning my name along with other sounds, “Jillian. Jill. Ohhh. Ahhh.” I’m mostly focused on the wave of sensation stemming from the one spot that I thought was bringing me trouble all night, but in reality was getting me ready for this most wonderful relief.

  When Caden speaks again, he says, “It’s called masturbation.”

  “Huh?” What’s he talking about?

  “Your question. Girls masturbate just like guys, but they can’t exactly jerk off, you know? Anyway, if you do it right, you have an orgasm.”

  “Did you—” we say at the same time.

  “I think I did, Caden.”

  I did. I totally did. HOLY SHIT I HAD AN ORGASM! And I sounded way hotter than that awful porn-star lady.

  “So did I,” Caden says.

  “Wow. I can’t believe we—” Wait, no. No. No. No. No. I had an orgasm with Caden. We had an orgasm at the same time. Like phone sex. We had phone sex. And I thought a kiss would change things? This is so bad.

  “Jillian?”

  “Yeah?” I whimper, sure he’s already realized how much I screwed things up by letting something crazy happen between us. Again.

  “Have you ever done that before?”

  “Umm, no.”

  He doesn’t sound upset.

  “I’m glad your first time was with me.”

  Maybe we will be okay.

  First friends. First kisses. First orgasm.

  What’s next?

  The End

  * * *

  Curious about what happened in the treehouse? You can read Jillian, Caden and James’ debut short story, First Kisses. Available on limited retail outlets.

  Dina Littner is a new romance author. Her stories tend to be awkward and they’re sometimes about sex, so this anthology was a natural fit.

  Dina’s first full-length novel ~ Through an Open Door (Impossible Choices Series Book 1) ~ will release in late 2016. What happens when a happy marriage falls apart through an open door leading to Room 2 of the River Point Spa? Lin Buchanan has a plan, and it includes protecting Caden and James, her college age sons from their father’s indiscretion.

  Dina gets excited when readers, bloggers, other authors, and well, basically anyone, reaches out to make friends. She’s all over social media, so find her, follow her and friend her. She’s wicked cool. And corny. Yeah.

  * * *

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  Drew and Kiera Film Love Scene

  Heather C. Leigh

  Drew Forrester couldn’t help but smile as he dressed in his wardrobe for the day’s scene. He had a great fucking morning. After sparring with his best friend and trainer, Damien, he had a hot round of mind-blowing sex with his girl Sydney. Drew smiled to himself. He purposely skipped a shower this morning before heading to the studio for today’s filming.

  Nice and nasty and ripe as a pile of garbage.

  Serves that bitch Kiera Radcliff right if I reek like sex and sweat and filthy sparring pads for this awkward as fuck sex scene we’re filming today. I know she’s the one that’s been leaking lies to the tabloids and pushing t
he studio to put a fake relationship with her into my publicity contract.

  Drew thought about Sydney and how much he loved her. No way would he ever agree to a pretend relationship with Kiera to promote the film, even if was fake. Just the fact that it was Kiera—something about the stunning blonde actress made him think she wasn’t right in the head. There was something off about her, nothing obvious, but she made Drew incredibly uncomfortable.

  Plus, Kiera fucked with Sydney at an important club opening in March and Drew almost lost her. That alone made it almost unbearable for him to work with Kiera on a daily basis without wanting to shout in her self-righteous fucking face.

  There was a quick knock on Drew’s dressing room door before his assistant, Jane, poked her head in. “Just about ready?”

  Drew lifted his hand to drag it through his hair. At the last second he remembered he already sat in makeup for an hour and his hair was styled for the shoot. Frustrated, he dropped it back into his lap.

  With a pained sigh, Drew answered. “No I’m not ready. Shit, Jane. I don’t want to do this.”

  The small, older woman shuffled in and closed the door behind her. She dropped onto the couch next to Drew and rubbed his back. “Nervous?”

  “Ha!” Drew laughed sarcastically, “Hardly. I just…” he exhaled loudly. “I don’t want to do this. The thought of having to touch her,” He shuddered. “She’s a bitch and she freaks me out.”

  “Well, it is your job,” Jane said matter of factly. “And,” she leaned in, sniffed loudly, and her face contorted in revulsion. “Kiera won’t want to be anywhere near you. You might be one of the best looking men I’ve ever seen, but Drew, you stink.”

  Drew grinned, looked Jane in the eye, and winked. “That’s the point.”

  Jane threw her head back and laughed along with Drew.

  “You are so bad!” She pushed his shoulder playfully.

  The light moment gave Drew the minimum amount of strength needed to get up, leave his dressing room, and head for the set.

  By the time Drew reached the makeshift bedroom and laid eyes on the rumpled bed where he was supposed to ‘make love’ to Kiera’s character, nausea burned a hole in his insides. Drew wiped his slick palms on his pants, praying the sweat didn’t leave stains on the fabric.