The Reality O

by Candy Sloane

  Tongue laughed, and even I stifled one.

  We rotated our positions, which is apparently some rule of volleyball that TV shows with as much integrity as The Orgasm Virgin followed.

  It was Cuffs’s turn to serve. “If I hit overhand, I might break one of your noses.”

  “Just tell yourself whatever you need to,” Tongue said.

  “I’m here if there’s a medical emergency,” MD said, with as much seriousness as he could muster. I guess he wanted everyone to know he was a real doctor, in addition to him playing one on TV.

  “The only medical emergency is us dying of boredom while Cuffs peacocks around,” Kappa said.

  “Bite me, Krappa,” Cuffs cleared his throat and served. The ball sailed over the net.

  True to his word, Professor both set up and hit the ball back over to the other side. His shirt was off and I couldn’t help focusing on the movement of his muscles stretching and tightening.

  My team went into a tizzy trying to return his volley. Well, besides Tattoo and me. We both hung back while everyone else fought for the ball.

  “Let them do all the work,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “I need to save my strength for you.”

  My stomach fluttered, nothing compared to what Scott did to me, but enough to make me give Tattoo a second glance. Regardless of what the scoreboard said, he had just earned his first point.

  Hose managed to hit the ball, lobbing it back over.

  It was headed straight for Tongue. Instead of hitting it she stepped to the side and let it fall into the sand with a thud.

  “Two to zero,” Scott said.

  “You need to play, too,” Kappa said.

  “Who says?” Tongue asked, teasing at the string of her bikini top.

  “Stay out of the way then,” Professor said, throwing the ball back over the net to my team.

  Tongue glared.

  “Or at least give us a chance to return before it falls,” Cowboy said.

  “Do you seriously care about this game?” she huffed, blowing her hair out of her eyes. “We’re not here to win a volleyball tournament.”

  “You really don’t understand men at all, do you?” Kappa asked.

  She clapped sarcastically. “Bravo, you’ve finally got it.”

  We rotated again. It was Hose’s turn to serve. He balanced the ball on one hand, formed a tight fist, and pounded it with the other, sending it high over the net.

  MD ran for it, yelling for Kappa to set him up. That was the last thing I remembered.

  I woke up supine in the sand. Allie, Scott, and Garrett stood over me with worried faces. Their heads were blurry and slowly came into focus. Beyond them the rest of the Gasms stood in a line, silent, stunned.

  “Should we call an ambulance?” I heard Scott ask.

  “Yes, now,” Allie said.

  “Let’s stay calm. She’s waking up, and there’s a doctor right here,” Garrett said.

  MD came into view. He stood above me, biting his lip.

  “But he’s the one who beaned her in the head with the fucking ball,” Allie said.

  “We could call the staff doctor,” Scott tried, his eyes pleading with Garrett.

  “I’m so sorry,” MD said, kneeling down next to me. “Do you feel okay?” He touched my forehead, ran his hand over my scalp, searching for a lump.

  “I feel dizzy.”

  “Ambulance, now,” Allie said.

  “Do you feel nauseous?” MD asked, taking my hand.

  “No.”

  “Do you have ringing in your ears?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t think she has a concussion,” MD said, looking at me more closely. If I hadn’t felt like my head was about to explode, I might have thought that his hazel eyes were pretty sexy. Well, at least for someone who had possibly given me permanent brain damage.

  “No offense, but I’d rather get the opinion of someone who wears the top part of his scrubs,” Allie said.

  “I do when I’m at the hospital.”

  “How professional; that means the gun show is just for special occasions,” Allie said.

  “When in Rome,” he shrugged.

  The Orgasm Virgin was anything but Rome, at best maybe Daytona Beach.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” MD asked, continuing his examination.

  “To get an orgasm,” I replied.

  I heard the Gasms laugh.

  Allie laughed too. “I guess she really is okay.”

  Scott pushed past MD with a water bottle fresh from the cooler. I took a long drink. I could tell he wanted to do more, to say more, but he let MD take that role.

  Garrett tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s get some more establishing shots so we can leave that incident out, please.”

  Even with little cartoon birdies still flying in a circle in front of my eyes I understood he meant from the main show. It would surely be included on the DVD blooper reel, along with Cowboy puking all over me, and fuck, what was next?

  It felt like all I had done so far was embarrass myself, make the people around me embarrass themselves, and get dressed up like I was some pervert’s paper doll.

  Oh, and deny every carnal craving I had toward Scott.

  “Why don’t you try sitting up?” MD said, taking the water from me.

  I rose, and my head banged like a cannon being fired repeatedly. I lay my palm on my forehead, hoping to disarm it.

  MD took me around the waist and guided the water bottle to my lips to help me take another drink. The other Gasms dispersed, grabbing their own drinks.

  “You’re probably going to eliminate me now, huh?” he asked, his eyes downcast.

  “The way you’re taking care of me is making me reconsider.”

  “If you like this, you should see what I can do without a prescription.”

  I smiled, my headache starting to subside. “I would definitely like to see that if you make it through elimination.”

  “If?” he asked, his head cocked at an angle.

  “Yes,” I explained, “if you’re still here tonight, you should stop by my room.”

  “That sounds more promising than if,” he said, his eyes blazing.

  “We have a long day ahead of us, don’t we?”

  He ran his pointer finger along my forearm. “Which gives me all the more time to convince you.”

  MD had convinced me, so had Tattoo, Private, Professor, Tongue, Cowboy, and even Kappa.

  Hose, Wheels, and Cuffs were on the bubble.

  It came down to Cuffs’s snide comment, and he was bid adieu condom-less.

  That was the bad news. The good news was, I was ready for MD to make a house call.

  All I thought of as I bathed, coiffed, attended to stray hairs, slipped into winter-white lace lingerie, and sprayed myself with lilac perfume, was that I was doing what I was supposed to do per my contract.

  I was ready for the Doctor to be in, as Allie had said, my pants.

  Sure, I would have rather it had been Scott paying me a visit, but he’d told me I needed to play by the rules of The Orgasm Virgin, and that was being intimate with the contestants.

  I wondered if this was what polygamists felt like.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, my legs crossed, trying not to seem like I was waiting. But, considering there was a doctor involved, and they had whole rooms named after what I was doing, I really wanted a magazine. Or maybe I was just bored as hell as thirty minutes turned into forty-five.

  I glanced at the clock again just to be sure I was reading it right.

  Was someone who could conceivably get paid for screwing me standing me up?

  Finally, there was a knock at the door. Out of habit I smoothed down the clothes I wasn’t wearing and padded across the floor.

  “I’m ready to play, doctor,” I said as alluringly as I could as I pulled the door open.

  It wasn’t MD standing on the other side, but Scott. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he took in my lace bra, panties, and noth
ing else.

  I covered my breasts with my hands, not like it mattered, because it gave him a perfect view of my underwear.

  “Scott,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

  “I know you weren’t expecting me,” he said, walking inside and closing the door behind him quickly, “but I didn’t want that quack to be the one alone with you tonight. I wanted to be.”

  Could this really be happening? Or was it going to be more, You can think about me, but I can’t touch you.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I told him you didn’t feel well.”

  “What about getting fired? Lying? Your own show?” I asked, the questions swirling around in my head spilling out. But even as I asked, I shifted closer. Not covering myself at all anymore. Inviting him to look at me, all of me, my breasts cupped under lacy fabric, my bare trembling stomach, my hips curved above the thigh-line of my panties, challenging him to try to not want to act on what it was clear he wanted.

  “It’s killing me to let someone have you before I can, to let anyone else have you, period.”

  “Then I guess you’d better get to work,” I said, sliding my hands along my curves.

  He plunged in and kissed me. His hot, hungry lips put Tongue’s to shame. His searching, searing hands turned Cowboy’s and MD’s to relics.

  I glanced at the lamp camera. The red light was off. My tongue explored his mouth as his led the way.

  He pressed me against the wall and slid his tongue down my neck, against one bra strap, yanking it off with his teeth. Then he moved to the other, giving it the same treatment. He unhooked my bra and slipped it off, stopping for a moment to take in my breasts.

  “Better than I even imagined.” He whistled.

  “Worth ten thousand dollars?” I joked.

  “Let me try them out and see,” he said, taking a nipple into his mouth.

  All the oxygen was knocked out of me, my body existing only for him. He sucked slowly and flicked at my nipple with his tongue, giving me a preview of what I hoped he would do as he moved even lower. He put his thumbs in the waistband of my panties, running them back and forth along the skin on my lower abdomen, teasing me, tickling me, before he forced me to shimmy out of them. They fell at my feet. I stood naked in front of him.

  His eyes searched along every bit of exposed skin as he took me in again. I’d been concerned about America seeing me in a bathing suit but, when it came to Scott seeing all of me, his gaze filled me with reassurance.

  “All your clothes are still on,” I frowned.

  “But,” he said, his lips against my neck, “my mouth is free.”

  He kissed a trail down to my stomach, lower, lower, kneeling down in front of me, OMG lower, to the spot that had been aching to be touched after three-days-worth of foreplay. He skimmed his tongue against me. Each lick sent a shudder straight through the center of me, a shock like ice cold electricity burning hot.

  I moaned, quietly, but loud enough so he knew I liked it. Just in case my banging myself against his warm wet mouth wasn’t enough of a clue.

  His tongue went at me again and again, and something about it was different than other times, with other guys. I felt a pressure starting to build, a wave starting to drown me. He sensed it and slid two fingers deep inside me. I held back a yelp.

  He looked up at me. “I can’t wait until I can get you out of this house so I can really make you wail.” His breath silked against my blistering skin.

  “Do it now,” I said. I was in a state where I would have added please if I had to, where I would have gotten on my own knees and begged.

  He pressed his lips to me again, his tongue stroking faster and faster. My legs felt like they were about to give out, like everything below my waist was burning so hot, it was evaporating. I arched my back against the wall to keep myself upright, a moan at the back of my throat coming out like a growl. I bucked against him.

  But, instead of reciprocating, he fell flat to the floor like the room was on fire, and he was trying to get away from the smoke.

  “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, “I’ll stay quiet,” I promised, thinking that could be the only reason why he had.

  “The camera is on,” he hissed between his teeth.

  “It can’t see us over here,” I said, my body under the spell of sex as I kneeled down to his level. I heard his heartbeat, his breath, felt the fear coming off him.

  “But it can hear us,” he said. “This was a bad idea. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. I could barely hear him, “but this is going to have to be a to-be-continued situation.”

  My mouth opened but no words came, apparently nothing else was going to come that night either.

  Logically I understood he was right, but there was nothing logical about what was happening to my body at that moment. It was like I was in the middle of an ocean, and he was my life preserver. I was drowning without him. I needed him, immediately. He couldn’t bring me that close and just stop.

  “Continue now,” I commanded.

  “Shhh, the cameras,” he said so quietly it was like he hadn’t spoken at all.

  “Continue now,” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said kissing my hand, “it’s only nine more days.”

  “I can’t wait nine more seconds.”

  “Me either,” he said, “but we have to. Just for now, V.” He kissed my hand again and slinked along the floor to the door, opening and closing it with a barely audible click.

  I sat against the wall, stunned, speechless, breathless, hollow. I considered finishing myself off, but it seemed wrong, Scott had gotten so close, closer than anyone before him ever had. I wanted his lips on me when I hit the finish line.

  Nine days.

  Nine Gasms.

  One very horny “virgin.”

  Episode Four: Body Snatcher

  It was time for the requisite reality show helicopter ride and my first one-on-one date. Garrett had insisted on the latter and, well, I guess the helicopter had, too, since it could only hold four people. The pilot took up one of the front bucket seats and Garrett took the other. It would be MD and me in the back.

  Garrett hadn’t come out and said it, but I could tell he was disappointed in my progress so far, and he was coming along to make sure there was actual progress this time. If only he would have known that I had been closer than ever to having an orgasm with another person.

  Unfortunately it was with someone who was off-limits. A tryst he could never know about.

  I didn’t even tell Allie what had happened. I couldn’t. I was dying to but, in a place where cameras and microphones were everywhere, the only way something stayed a secret was by going unsaid.

  I snuck a peek at Scott as I waited to board. He was staying behind with the sound guys and the establishing-shot crew. He could barely look at me. He probably felt like crap about leaving like he had, driving me so close to falling off a cliff and then slamming the breaks so hard I had whiplash.

  Damn this show.

  MD ran his hand along my back, reminding me who I should have been thinking about.

  Damn him for his sweet smile and solid upper body.

  I’d gone into this for the money, for Allie, because my secret had gone nationwide anyway, but now that I was here I wanted an orgasm—especially after last night. I could forfeit the money, admit my feelings for Scott, and hopefully get that fucking orgasm. But I also couldn’t, because he had more on the line than I did. He had his career. He had his future and, if he really felt about me the way he claimed to, possibly ours.

  Unfortunately none of that made up for being a little pissed at him.

  “Are you sure you’re up to something so strenuous?” MD asked, his hand still at my back as we stood in front of the stationary helicopter. It had already landed grandly for the establishing shot cameras—a shiny black spider hitting a lily pad.

  “She’ll be fine,” Garrett said. He was taking notes on a clipboard. About what, I had no idea. Perhap
s he had a scorecard, like at the volleyball game, seeing which of the Gasms advances I actually lobbed back. I guess for now MD was in the lead.

  I forced myself not to turn and glare at Garrett. “Really, I’m okay, thank you.”

  MD nodded and bowed. “After you.”

  He was such a gentleman. But how could I know if he was sincere? For that matter how could I know if Scott was sincere? If he was, wouldn’t he have stayed with me last night?

  Given the choice of giving him pleasure in the face of possibly losing my job, I might have. Of course, there were a lot more libraries than TV networks, or actually…

  Whatever—none of that mattered now; it was the doctor and me. He was finally in.

  I pulled myself up and into the helicopter, the tight gingham skirt and white kitten heels they had me in making it almost impossible to do so without tripping. I was getting tired of all the “virgin wear” they kept putting me in, but at least they’d moved on from bathing suits.

  MD followed behind me, pulled himself up and into the helicopter with no trouble. He wore a button-down and jeans. I guess I was the only one who had to keep wearing a costume. The pilot started the motor as Garrett took the seat up front next to him.

  “Headsets on, or you won’t hear anything,” the pilot said.

  I slipped mine over the top of my head and onto my ears. It was tight and made me feel sweaty. I knew my hair would look like crap when I took it off, but at least I had my own crew to fix it before whatever we filmed next.

  The blades started whopping faster and faster. The way the body of the helicopter shook I couldn’t help thinking maybe this helicopter could take over where Scott had left off.

  Considering the show I was on you’d think it was the opposite, but clearly I was more sexually frustrated than ever.

  Garrett turned to face MD and me in the backseat, a handheld camera on one eye. “Just act like I’m not here.”

  To his credit, MD rolled his eyes. “Have you ever been in a helicopter before?”

  I shook my head.

  “Talk into the microphone so we can hear you,” Garrett said.

  “No,” I obeyed.

  “Me either,” MD said, reaching out to squeeze my hand as we launched higher.