Half serious and half joking, I startled back, "Whoa, I'm not ready for that type of commitment…"
She chuckled and said, "It's not a ring."
Hesitant that she was handing me a gift that was more lavish that I was comfortable accepting, I took the box from her hand. I pushed the box open and was relieved to see a simple set of pearl earrings inside. Not too lavish, just tasteful and pretty.
"Aw, Faye," I cooed. "They're beautiful.”
"I felt like I didn't do a good job congratulating you on your promotion the other night. These are a token of how proud I am that you're being recognized for your hard work."
I looked back and forth between Faye and the earrings, smiling. She looked sheepish, and it was so cute. It was nice to see her fumble from time to time. It made me feel better about dating someone so poised.
Wanting to ease her mind, I made a joke. "You know what Justine says about earrings?"
Faye looked up at me with raised eyebrows.
"She says earrings are the dry hump of jewelry."
At that, Faye laughed.
I leaned in and scrunched up my nose as I nuzzled her cheek. "You wanna dry hump me, baby?"
Faye giggled and tilted her chin up to peck me on the cheek. "All night long." She kissed me again, lips lingering on my skin before she pulled away, expression more serious.
Then it was quiet and I rested my head on her shoulder.
"Sex is important to me," she said. "I just hope that once we get there, we match up, you know?"
I nodded. Plenty of couples had mismatched sex drives. "Sex is important to me too," I assured her, leaning into her shoulder for a moment.
Faye nodded and I could tell she hadn't been assured that I understood. "I like sex a lot," she reiterated.
"I like sex a lot too," I said. "What happened with Vance just made me realize that I need to be at a certain place with someone when I start having it."
Faye nodded. "I understand," she said. "And I'm sorry if my behavior tonight set us back." It was quiet for a moment. "Want to put in your earrings?"
I grinned. "Is that a euphemism?"
"It wasn't, but we can totally head back to my car and dry hump if you want." She gestured with her thumb and a cartoonish expression that told me she was joking.
I giggled and tilted my forehead into hers. "How about a goodnight kiss?" I murmured. "We almost didn't get one."
"I know," Faye mumbled, looking ashamed again. "That's how I knew I had messed up." She held there, inches from my lips, until she reached up and cupped my cheek, bringing our open mouths together in a soft, wet kiss. She drew it out, slow and gentle, until we felt the last of our tension fade.
"Let's never say goodnight without doing that," she breathed.
"Deal," I whispered. "I'm glad you came back."
"Me too," she sighed.
And we sat there in peaceful silence for a full minute, just breathing in the relief.
Finally she pulled away, taking in a deep breath to prepare her for her journey home. "Goodnight, Riley," she smiled.
"Goodnight, Faye.”
Faye and I had been dating for a month, and things were better than I ever imagined they would be. Every time I saw her smile, I forgot about things that were worrying me.
But I was a little worried as I took her in, perched on the edge of her bed, playful smile on her face as she took off her pants.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
I was so nervous about being Faye's first girl, I was almost looking for a reason to get out of it. If she was unsure, that was reason enough to wait a little longer. She had undergone so much change in the last few months; I didn't want our first time to be the final blow to an already overrun system.
But Faye had other ideas.
"I'm sure," she said, grabbing my shirt in a bunch and pulling me down on top of her. "I've gone twenty-five years without having sex with a girl and I don't want to wait anymore." She gave me a surprisingly confident smirk and drew me down to her lips.
"I just want you to be sure. You weren't so into having sex with Isaiah."
"Because I'm gay," Faye giggled, rolling her eyes. "Why would I be into having sex with Isaiah?"
Her confident playfulness was reassuring, but I couldn't help but worry that she was steering herself too fast into a vulnerable place.
"How do you know you'll be into sex with me?" I asked, trying to sound playful.
She drew me down so her lips were on my ear. "Because I think about you when I touch myself, and I've never gotten off so fast in my life."
I shuddered with sudden arousal at her boldness. I was starting to realize that Faye wasn't as shy as she had seemed. She was just cautious and in her head a lot.
"I hope I measure up," I say, playing along.
Faye toyed with the hem of my shirt. "If not, we'll work on your technique." She winked and I knew she was making jokes about her own inexperience, not mine.
"You'll be great," I assured her.
She gave me a smile that held only a hint of apprehension as she lifted my shirt up and slid her hands over my breasts, feeling them in my bra.
I exhaled. It was thrilling, having her touch me like this. She was bolder than I imagined, which was incredibly sexy. I eased into the idea that this might be the best night we'd ever had together.
Then, as though to reassure me and only me, she removed her hands and clasped my face, drawing back to look deep into my eyes before she kissed me, a kiss full of promise and trust. "Let's do it," she whispered. "Let's pop my girl cherry."
When she said that, my mind flashed to the Private Pleasures Booth at Jez. Several of my regulars liked to do virginity role-plays, where I played a hesitant teenage girl who'd "never had a real cock inside her." I would giggle and act nervous and they'd stroke themselves behind the glass while they promised to be gentle while they "popped my cherry." I didn't get off on it — did I get off on anything at work? — and as a result, I hated the phrase "pop my cherry."
"Don't call it that," I said, gentle but still firm.
Smiling up at me, Faye nodded. "I'm just excited to be with you."
Relaxed by her certainty and playfulness, I dove in. We quickly shed everything between us. She hummed and giggled at first, rolling on top of me and nipping at my neck and ears, but then things got so steamy that she could only pant and gasp and moan, supine on the mattress.
I took frequent breaks from tonguing the skin of her neck and her gorgeous breasts to talk to her. Girls like hearing things, even if I was just describing what I was doing. "My tongue really likes your nipples, baby," I chanted. "I want to lick them all night."
Faye panted and put her hand on the back of my head to encourage me.
I continued sucking and nipping at her, enjoying the symphony of her sighs as I wound her up, hands gripping her hips to keep her from writhing too much beneath me.
"I want to play with your pussy," I mumbled into her skin. "Are you ready for that?"
Faye nodded and took deep breaths, hands hovering over my shoulders.
"Can I lick it?" I asked, smirking against her. "I bet my tongue would like your pussy even more than your nipples."
"Yeah," Faye panted, putting her hands on my shoulders to urge me down.
I glanced up at her as I made my way down her stomach, smiling as I lapped at her navel and teased the creases of her pelvis. She settled back into the pillows as I kissed her inner thighs, inhaling deeply the smell I had caught hints of but never experienced fully until now.
"Oh, baby," I groaned. "You smell amazing." I placed more kisses on her thighs. "I can't wait to taste."
Faye had grown quiet above me, but her chest was still rising and falling.
"If I lick your pussy, will you come in my mouth?" I asked.
I looked up to see her give a faint nod.
With that final dose of encouragement, I leaned forward and licked a broad stroke up her center, coating my tongue in her slippery, tangy arousal. I drew i
t back into my mouth, tasting the bouquet on my tongue.
"Mmm," I hummed. "You taste delicious."
Faye kept breathing deeply, and I dove back in, licking a few more times before I fixed my mouth at the top of her opening, sucking and stroking with my tongue, feeling as she began to quiver and shake at my touch. Soon I slipped first one and then two fingers into her, working up a rhythm.
Every few minutes I would pop my mouth off to talk to her, asking her how she felt. She gave short, breathy responses. Good, keep going, faster, to the left. She was directive when asked, which I loved.
When I felt Faye's thighs tensing, I stepped up my game, sucking voraciously and humming, curling the fingers inside her. She was shaking from head to toe, hands uncertain where to go, so I guided them to my head to direct me. She got the message and pushed me slightly to the right. I sucked harder as she tensed and tensed, until finally her hands pushed me away.
Figuring she must have come, I crawled up the mattress and burrowed into her side, basking in our sweat and feeling Faye's chest rise and fall against my breasts.
"Was it as good as you imagined?" I asked, a bit cocky.
I felt her shudder beneath me.
Several times when I had had good sex, I'd shaken, overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience. I wrapped my arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze to comfort her. But she only shuddered more.
I looked up and was surprised to see that she was crying.
Maybe being with a girl for the first time had awoken something sleeping and neglected in Faye that was just being let out for the first time.
"It's okay," I hushed. "There's nothing wrong with feeling good."
Faye squeaked and shook harder. "I don't feel good," she whimpered.
I chilled and an alert stiffness seized my limbs. I felt my stomach twist as I craned my head to see her face better.
"You didn't like it?" I asked. "Did you not come?"
Faye's face was scrunched up and her neck was stiff, but she managed to shake her head.
"Did I hurt you?" I asked, turning over and propping myself up, growing more frantic with every tear that squeezed out of Faye's eyes and trickled down into her hair.
Faye gave another stiff head shake.
"What is it?" I asked, giving up on trying to read Faye's mind.
Faye took a few gulping breaths and opened her mouth, exhaling a few times before she said in a tiny, pitiful voice, "I wanted to have sex with you, Riley."
I was confused. Was she saying she wanted to in the past, but not anymore? "Okay... We don't have to anymore if you don't want to."
Faye took more breaths before shaking her head. "No, I still want to."
"Okay..."
I watched Faye cry for a few more excruciating moments. I had no idea what to do. I couldn't figure out why she was so upset.
"I'm sorry, Faye... I'm confused."
Faye put her hands over her face for a few seconds before removing them, keeping her eyes closed. "I want to have sex with Riley, not Violet."
I felt my chest freeze and then deflate.
I hadn't even realized I'd slipped into my work persona. I'd treated Faye like a customer rather than the beautiful, special girl I was dating.
I felt horrible. Faye was so new and trusting, and I'd let her down. I'd slipped into the practiced dissociation that made me so good at my job.
I stayed frozen next to her, trying to think of something to say. I knew what Violet would have said; something coy about being up for another round while someone else watched. But that scripted, guarded character was making Faye cry now. When I couldn't be Violet, I had no idea how to be with someone in an uncomfortable situation. I swallowed and muttered a humiliated apology.
"Fuck... I'm sorry."
I hid my face, scrunching my eyes up to block out the image of Faye crying. This was the worst after-sex feeling I'd ever had. All the pleasure I had experienced was canceled out by the crippling guilt I now felt.
I rolled onto my back, not wanting my traitorous body to be pressed so close to her when she was upset. Faye said nothing, still shuddering, but seeming to calm now that she had told me why she was upset. "I know it sounds dumb, but I just... I don't ever want to be with Violet. Anyone can be with Violet."
I was offended for a moment. Not anyone could be with Violet. I hadn't had sex for pay in months. Wanting to buoy myself out of my guilt, I grabbed onto Faye's insult like a lifeline.
"That's not true."
Faye turned to look at me for the first time in minutes. "I didn't mean it like that."
I didn't know what to say. There was some truth to what Faye had said. Not everyone could have sex with me, but four days a week my body was on display for anyone with a dollar. So while I could have clung to Faye's insult longer, I let it go.
"I know."
"Do you ever have sex as Riley?" Faye asked.
I chewed my lip, trying to block out my guilt as I contemplated what Faye was asking. Did I have sex as myself? Could I be an unadorned person, bare on the inside as well as the outside?
In an overwhelming, upsetting moment, I realized I didn't know.
"I... don't know," I admitted. "I've never thought about it."
Faye, who was calming and able to make steady eye contact, gave me a sad nod. "Do you think we could try?"
I felt worse still. This was Faye's first time with a girl, and rather than thinking about her own experience, she was caught up in trying to make me more authentic next time. I was willing to do anything to let Faye have a positive experience.
But the thought of having sex without slipping into Violet's body and mind was anxiety-provoking. I couldn't imagine it any differently than my first time with Damon. That hadn't been a bad experience, but it hadn't been a great one. It had been fumbling and painful and awkward, despite the love between us. I supposed this wasn't any better.
And because I adored Faye so much, I knew I had to try if I wanted to keep her around.
"Yeah," I said, swallowing what was left of my pride. "Of course we can try that."
Faye rolled towards me, wrapping her arm around my waist and letting out a relieved sigh.
"I don't like the word pussy," she mumbled.
Realizing my verbal playfulness had been part of the problem, I held her tighter. "Okay. I won't use that word with you anymore," I said, making a big mental note about it. I said it so many times at work, I had forgotten some people didn't like it.
Faye curled into me, tucking her head against my neck in relief. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Intimacy.
I had forgotten how to pair sex and intimacy.
"Are there other words you don't like?"
"Cunt and most of the penis words," she said, sounding shy for the first time in weeks.
"Okay," I said.
"And I don't like being called a whore or slut or anything. I'd rather be a good girl than a bad girl."
Drawing her even closer to me, I resolved to learn a completely new way of being with someone.
"I wouldn't call you those things unless you wanted me to."
She tilted her head to look at me. "Do you like being called those things?"
Seeing the anxious curiosity in her eyes, I second-guessed myself. I had always thought I liked being told what a bad girl I was, but when faced with true intimacy, I wasn't sure.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I think I got used to a lot of things I thought I liked."
Faye ran her hand up and down my arm to soothe me. She could tell I was unsettled by what had just happened, and I was further discomforted by the fact that I didn't seem to know my sexual self like I thought I did.
"We'll figure it out." She hummed, running her fingers through my hair.
As I imagined Faye calling me a slut or a whore, I realized I hated the idea so intensely, it made me want to pull away from her.
"I'd rather be a good girl too."
She nodded and gave me her most beautiful, trusting Faye s
mile. "You are a good girl, Riley."
And even though I could tell she meant what she said, I had a hard time believing her.
To my horror, I felt tears stinging in my throat and eyes. They pushed their way to the surface and I curled toward her, hoping to hide my face in her hair so she wouldn't see me cry. I didn't want our first time to dissolve into tears for both of us.
But she knew me well enough to know when I was hiding.
"Baby, what's wrong?" she cooed.
I realized I was shaking with an effort to keep my tears quiet.
"I don't feel like a good girl," I squeaked.
She gripped me tighter and drew her head back. "You are," she said. "Don't worry."
I couldn't hold back my sniffles as she looked at me with such trust and concern. So I just cried, miserable and bewildered as to how I'd gotten here.
The funny thing about pride is that it often sits next to shame. I was so, so proud to be with Faye. I was proud that she trusted me and proud that I meant something to her. I was proud of the person she had decided to become, proud she had chosen to be with me when she could have easily chosen someone easier or more traditional. But she had chosen me.
And because she had chosen me, I felt all the shame other people had tried to force on me for the last year. All that stripper shame, the fallen woman story, the assumptions and scoffs and smirking leers. I felt all of that weigh on me in the one place I never thought it would. I had thought I could keep Riley and Violet separate, but I'd been wrong. Riley and Violet were the same person, and that person didn't believe she deserved Faye. If I was going to deserve her, I was going to have to work for it.
I took a deep breath. "What would make it better?"
"It's just - I don't know, you feel so far away. I don't want just a hand or a mouth coming out of nowhere. Like, I thought it would be more like… I don't know, like this," she said, sliding her body on top of me and rocking. She bent down and kissed me slowly before pulling back and saying in her lowest, sexiest voice, "I want all of you."
I shuddered and realized that giving Faye what she wanted was going to be scarier than I'd thought.
I took a deep breath, trying not to sniffle too much. "Now?" I asked, feeling anxiety wash over me at the prospect of stripping down in the way Faye needed.
Wherever the Dandelion Falls Page 43
