Chapter 06
Virginia: Lucky Number Seven
I took the bus home and sat feeling like absolute trash. The worst part is, I knew I'd have to forgive Tom, and we'd be back together by the weekend. He'd already texted me. "Sorry, are we cool?"
I replied. "Yes, I'm sorry too. See you next weekend?"
He hadn't replied yet. God, I hated how he always kept me dangling by text. I always replied to him instantly. I needed to learn to keep him waiting.
I texted. "Was I really #7?"
He didn't respond, so I busied myself looking at memes on my phone. My mail was still sticking out of my bag. I sighed and put my phone away. I pulled out the mail stack and looked at the first envelope. Credit card offer. The next? Something about health insurance. I'd have to open that one later. Next? Something for Quinn. Next. Quinn again. Next. A postcard? Who sent a postcard with a picture of New York?
My phone dinged. I stuffed the mail back into my purse and hurriedly looked at the text.
"Yes, but the other 6 meant nothing, some were before you, some when we were broken up. I swear. You're my lucky #7, and I never want to meet #8."
I sighed angrily and replied. "You swear there's no more, just the other 6? I can't keep hearing about more girls with you. It seriously hurts."
I stared at my phone for five minutes. Lord, he fucked faster than he texted. I was about to look at my mail again, but my bus stop came up. I got off and headed down the street and toward my apartment building. My phone dinged again.
"I swear, I love you #7."
I smiled to myself. He so rarely said he loved me. I remember the first time. I must have been 15. Having a 17-year-old boy tell me he loved me was the greatest thing in the world. Of course, I told him I loved him back, and then I started telling him all the time. Sometimes, I'd get lucky and he'd say it back, but this was one of the very few times he said it first. Well, texted it first. Same thing.
"I love you too, #1." Okay, number one was a lie, but the ceremony didn't count. It was a deep secret that my family never spoke about, and Tom would never know about it. Hell, he kept so many girls from me for so long, I could keep Beau from him.
I felt better as I reached my apartment. I tried chatting with my boyfriend again, but I didn't get another response from him, except, "Trying to sleep. Goodnight."
I rolled my eyes and put my phone away. I took out my mail as I pressed the button in the elevator. Oh yeah, the mystery postcard. I started to turn it over.
The elevator dinged and someone stepped in, an old man I'd seen around the building before.
"Hello there, young lady."
I put my mail in my bag. "Hello."
"You look lovely this evening," he said.
I smiled politely. "Thanks."
He didn't say anything else and neither did I, but he ogled me. I hated that I wasn't wearing panties right now. Finally, the elevator stopped, and I got out.
"Have a nice night, sweetheart," the man said.
"You too," I said without a glance back.
I went to unlock my door, but it was already unlocked. I went inside and put my jacket away in the closet and hung up my bag. I took the mail out and threw it in the pile next to the door. I'd tackle it later. The bathroom door was cracked, and I heard the shower running.
"It's me!" I called.
"Shit, you scared me!" Quinn called. "What are you doing here?"
"Failing at life. Where's Sergio?"
"Ran out of cigarettes. He'll be back in half an hour."
I stepped into the bathroom. "You're lucky I'm not raping you right now, because he left our door unlocked."
"Damn it, again? I'll yell at him."
I took my pantyhose down and sat on the toilet. "I'm peeing," I announced.
Quinn opened the shower curtain. I saw her big breasts and dark nipples staring at me.
"So, what happened?" she asked, raising an arm and shaving under it.
"The night ended early."
"No sex?" she said.
"We had sex."
"Really? Congrats."
"I need a shower," I said, wiping and standing. I'd flush later.
"You can jump in," she said.
"Thanks," I said.
Quinn and I had been showering together forever. We grew up in the tub and had the pictures to prove it. Also, in a family where we watched each other have ceremonial sex, we had fewer inhibitions. We were both hetero though, so it was never sexual. I did think she had a nice body though, and I was definitely envious of her bigger boobs, but I think she was envious of my wider hips.
"How was sex with Sergio? Did he last more than five whole minutes?" I asked, taking my pantyhose all the way off. Then I pushed my skirt down.
"Tom was that quick?"
"Quicker."
"Where are your panties?"
"He ripped them in half."
"Fucking men," Quinn said, shaving under her other arm.
"You didn't shave before having sex?" I asked.
"I did last night. He felt stubble, made a comment, embarrassed me."
"Fucking men," I said, taking my top off. I unhooked my bra, tossing it in the hamper, leaving me nude. "They're lucky they have dicks, or I'd be a lesbian."
"Spit that truth, sister."
"Assholes."
"Ever since your ceremony, you're swearing all the time," she said.
"Losing my virginity made me world-weary. Scootch." I moved the shower curtain aside and stepped under the water. "Ahh, you and your ice age showers."
"Go take your volcano showers alone, freak."
I rubbed my face with the water and felt a little better as the sweat and feel of sex washed away from me.
"So, were the five minutes any good?" she asked, handing me the poof. She put some soap on it for me.
"Three minutes, actually, but I would've given him a pass. It was our first time. But then he sent me home, said his mom would be upset if I slept over."
"Well, don't you think she would?" she asked, now running the razor over her legs.
"I don't know. I don't care. I only know he pissed me off. I wanted to spend the night and bond, you know? Now I feel cheap, like he fucked me and dumped me."
"But you're still together, right?"
"Yes," I said, rubbing the poofy sponge across my breasts and neck and tummy. "Actually, he said he loved me."
"Wow, that's rare."
"I know. He texted it, to be clear."
"Ah, well, Tom will be Tom," she said, switching legs. I rubbed the sponge between my legs. It felt rough against my pussy.
"He didn't make me cum though," I said. "And get this, I asked him to eat my pussy, and he told me straight to my face, in all seriousness, he does not and will never do that."
"Are you kidding?"
"No. Like, is that an unrealistic expectation, that your boyfriend slash potential future life-mate eats your pussy?"
"Hell no. I'd be furious if Sergio didn't eat my pussy."
"He does eat you then?"
"Sure, he did earlier."
"I'm so disappointed. Maybe one day I can change Tom's mind, but I doubt it. Damn it, and Beau ate me so good and made me cum so well."
"Don't do that. Don't compare them. Beau was practice. He's not a real person."
"He was a real person. He's just not an attainable person. And what the hell was the point of having sex with him if not to learn and expect a certain level of sexual satisfaction?"
"True, but Beau was obviously a very good lover. Not all men are like that. You can't hold other men to that standard. It's like how men expect us to behave like porn stars. It's unrealistic."
"Yes, but I don't think it's too much to expect my boyfriend to kiss me after I suck his dick, to lick my pussy, to cuddle with me after he fucks me for three minutes."
She gave a consenting nod. "That's fair. Sounds like Tom needs to learn some new tricks. Maybe he just needs practice, you know? He didn't have a ceremonial first time."
"No, he had six."
"Huh?"
"He admitted tonight, six girls before me, six. I'm lucky number seven."
"Oh, wow. He told you that?"
"Yeah. Can you believe it?"
"Did he say who the six were? I mean, did he give you names? Other than those two bitches who shall not be named."
"No, of course not. He said some of them were when we weren't together, like on a break, and fine, I knew he was unfaithful. I didn't realize how unfaithful, but I'd already forgiven him for it, and it's not like I can pass judgment. I had sex with Beau."
"Yeah, okay, true. So, you're okay with it?"
"I've accepted it. But my point is, he should know how to please a girl a little bit better, right?"
"Unless he only thinks about pleasing himself," she said, putting the razor down. She climbed out of the shower, drying herself off, running the towel down her long legs, putting it between her thighs to dry her shaved pussy, rubbing it across her breasts and then wrapping it around her hair and throwing her head back. She took a second towel and wrapped it around her chest.
"I guess," I said, increasing the hot water. "I'm just going to have to, like, train him, you know? Train him to do what I like. It's just such a big job, and I don't know if he wants to learn. It sucks, because I had the most amazing lover---"
"Stop that," she said. "You didn't have Beau."