CHAPTER THREE
The hospital was a fiasco. Even a week later, I cringe at how Daisy lied to the nurse. She asked for her name, and Daisy spurted out, “Lily Calloway.”
I didn’t correct her because I understood her motives.
She didn’t want the hospital to call our mother and have her involved in the situation.
So I handed the white-scrubbed nurse my I.D.
, which could pass for Daisy because my sixteen-year-old picture is nearly obscured.
I was even surprised the DMV didn’t force me to retake it.
In the photo, my hair nearly shields my whole face, and I tilted my head down, trying to end the photo-taking process as quickly as possible.
Afterwards, Lo made fun of me for the picture, but his wasn’t much better.
He smiled sarcastically, looking like a supreme sixteen-year-old asshole.
Thinking about Lo does not help my mind tonight. I roll in my bed, clenching the sheets and pressing my face to my pillow. Some nights are worse than others. This one has been brutal.
My body heats with a layer of sticky sweat. I just want him. My eyes tighten closed, and I imagine his hands raking the bareness of my back, spindling up my hips towards my shoulders…
I need someone to take me in their arms, to rub their palms over all the aching parts, to knead my breast and suck my neck, to make this tension explode into a high.
I crave it so badly that I end up biting my fingernails to the beds, turning on my side and staring at the wall, wondering if I should go find something to ease this into a nice, blissful release.
No.
I lick my lips and shudder, my body shaking as I prolong what it wants. Or maybe, it’s just my brain playing tricks on me. Maybe it’s all in my mind .
I inhale a deep breath and rise against my oak headboard.
I find the remote on the end table and click on the flat screen television above my dresser.
It swamps the wall, looking futuristic among my white canopied, king-sized bed and red velveteen chaise.
Rose decorated my room, and I have to admit, she did a pretty good job with the pop art and the black checkered pillows.
I could do without the canopy. One night, I rolled into it like a tortilla and started moronically swatting at it.
I click through the On Demand channels and peruse the nightly specials, landing on an X-rated film where a professor seduces a student. So cliché, but it’ll most definitely make me hot and bothered. I just hope that it helps me find the release I’m looking for.
I fast-forward the beginning where the girl usually just gives head.
Normally, blow jobs in porn don’t turn me on…
unless the guy does something sweet like hold her hair back and tell her she’s beautiful giving it.
But I’ve seen too many scenes where the guy jackhammers the thing down her throat.
Being choked by cock does nothing for me.
I reach the middle of the film, and the professor spreads the girl across his desk.
He wears vintage framed glasses and a white button-down.
His pants are already off and he quickly charges into her without any other foreplay.
She lets out a frighteningly loud scream and then her moans start.
“Mmmmmmmyeah. Like that....yeaaahhh.” She massages her own large breast while he thrusts hard.
I can tell she’s faking it, and maybe horny guys don’t care—but I do.
Her noises heighten and I realize that her orgasms are making me cringe. Not all porn is created equal.
I exit out and order another film.
Wanting to be surprised, I skim the description and barely glance at the title. This time I fast-forward again and quickly discern what type of category the film falls into.
The girl is draped over a bench in a locker room while the guy spanks her bare ass. It’s either submission or bondage or maybe a bit of both. I sink into my bed, silently hoping this girl doesn’t scream like a hyena.
She lets out a small yelp when the guy pushes inside of her. His thrusts are hard and rough and she clutches to the lockers for support. He grabs at her body and lets out a series of carnal grunts. After only a couple minutes she says, “Please make me come, sir. Please.”
Usually this does it for me. But I feel nothing. Not even turned off . I’m just…empty.
I mute the video and debate about purchasing another, but I’m not even sure a film with my favorite porn stars will help. This seems silly when all I want is Loren Hale. Visual stimulation doesn’t cure the craving for my boyfriend.
Tonight’s miserable experience suddenly triggers a recent memory with Lo—when he was sober for a very short period of time. I pause the film and wipe my eyes.
Lo plopped on my bed in our Philly apartment while I fired up my porn. I’d asked him if he wanted to watch a video with me, thinking it might be different now that he was sober. He had looked at me with crinkled eyebrows and a crooked grin before shrugging and following me into my room.
On the screen, a girl-next-door blonde rested in the jail cell, and a young, sexy cop entered, scanning her body with a lustful gaze.
“Why is she even there?” Lo asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I rested my head on his hard chest, my heart beating wildly at the thought of what might happen next between us. I wanted him to take me just as the cop would take the girl.
“I think she was mistakenly jailed for soliciting or something, and this cop is going to question her about it. But really she’s going to have sex so he’ll let her go.”
Lo’s brow arched. “I see.”
I swallowed hard, wondering if he was analyzing what I wanted. He sometimes watched porn with me. Whenever I put one on, I usually made it a private event, but with Lo there, the anticipation was enough to prick my nerves and tighten my insides.
The blonde girl fidgeted a little as the cop started to frisk her. His fingers moved down to the hem of her shorts. “Shouldn’t he have done that before he put her in jail?” Lo asked with a smile.
“It’s porn. It doesn’t have to make sense.”
Her back arched as the cop’s fingers dipped into her panties and out of sight. “Are you hiding anything that I need to know about?”
She shook her head. “No…sir…” Her breath caught, and then she let out a long pleasured moan, practically convulsing from his touch. And my breathing went shallow.
That was until I looked back at Lo. He wore a deep frown, as though trying to understand me through the porn. I sat up and disentangled from him. “This is a bad idea,” I said, about to shut it off. I scrounged around for the remote, but he grabbed my wrist lightly.
“No, wait, I’m watching this here.” He stayed transfixed to the porn.
The cop unzipped the girl’s shorts and tugged them to her ankles and then completely off.
“You’ve been a very bad girl. Leaving here will be very, very simple if you cooperate.
Just take this right here…” He motioned to his dick, and she grabbed it, her eyes big and innocent.
“Put it in your mouth and fuck it. Can you do that for me?”
The girl nodded rapidly. She leaned forward while he dropped his navy pants—no underwear on. She gathered his cock in her hands and filled her mouth.
“Fuck, yeah.” He groaned deeply and pulled her hair off her face.
“Take your punishment, baby.” I actually thought this blow job scene wasn’t a complete turn off.
Of course, it probably helped that Lo was sitting next to me.
She licked him up like a popsicle and then popped her mouth off it with a refreshing “ ahhhh. ”
Lo let out a long laugh, breaking the mood instantly. My whole body heated with embarrassment, not the type of “hot” I wanted.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Shhh,” he said, a big goofy smile on his face. I tried to speak again, but he put his hand to my lips, covering my mouth while he watched the film, mesmerized and amused.
“You like that?” the cop asked. The girl responded with a deep, throaty moan, and she rocked her head back and forth again. Then she took his cock out of her mouth and smacked it against her cheek. “Fuuuuuck,” he groaned. “Fuck, yeah.”
The cop yanked the girl to her feet and pulled down her top, kneading her breasts. “These are very nice.”
Lo laughed louder and looked to me, his hand still firmly planted on my mouth. “This really turns you on?”
Finally, he loosened his grip to let me reply.
“I usually skip the beginning,” I confessed. “Unless…” Nope, not telling him.
His eyes lit up. “Unless what?”
I blushed as I said, “Unless the guy holds her hair back.”
Lo’s smile engulfed his face. “That’s adorable.” He took the remote though and sped ahead to the actual sex where the couple talks less and usually just moans and grunts.
“Watching this is better than having sex with another person?” Lo asked, narrowing his eyes at the screen.
“No… Maybe… Sometimes,” I stammered. “It’s convenient.”
He looked back to me, eyebrows raised. “Better than me?”
I shook my head. “No way.”
“So you’ve had sex that was worse than watching porn? Who the hell were you fucking?” he asked.
I shrugged, not really having a way to answer that question. My eyes slowly left his for the movie where the cop had the girl spread-eagle on the floor. It was hard to look away, especially since I anticipated some steamy action ahead .
“Hey,” Lo breathed, brushing his fingers against my chin.
He gently tilted my head towards him, and his parted lips looked ready to kiss me.
I waited for him to close the gap between us, but instead of taking me in his arms and mimicking the film, he spoke.
“In a competition between me and this ...” He jabbed his finger towards the movie. “I’ll win. Every time.”