On and a half
“You slept with him and none of you talked about it?”
Clearly library is the wrong place to bring this up with Jenny because now the girls cluster at three tables ahead of us probably have worked out that I got laid last night with a mysterious “him”.
How do I explain this cleanly to Jenny in a way that doesn’t make me sound insane? Right now, I look like I glow from orgasm. The next word coming out of my mouth will determine my correct mental state.
“We haven’t talked about it. Not that we will never talk about it.”
“That is even worse!” She screams. As softly as the French in her could manage.
I know. Don’t point out the obvious Jenny fucking genius. I scrunch my nose, begging her with my eyes to turn the talk back to the business, rather than focusing on my sex life even if I’m the one to bring it up first.
Why can’t I talk about it after? Why can’t I sleep with him again? Why can’t I date Will?
Isn’t it fucking obvious?
He had a crush on my sister. That information alone should stop me from being anywhere near Will’s neck at all times, not getting into his pants.
And, he lives in the same house with me, where my sister lives with her boyfriend in a very lovey-dovey relationship.
Yes. I slept with him even though I already knew I couldn’t possibly date someone who wanted my sister first. Because God help me, I had never been so turned on in my life. I’ve been around athletes enough to know it wasn’t his sexy chest. It was that whole Will Mercer thing.
And it was the first time my body actually came from the touch of a guy and not my own, only for it to immediately crave, and I mean, crave his touch again.
His citrusy and somehow warm scent removes any logical thinking ability whenever his skin is near my nose, his voice near my ear, which was basically a good eight hours last night.
I wanted to bite his throat, eat him up, lick his abs and inhale whatever musky scent his skin offers me.
Oh Mother of — I could feel my lower body tightening up just thinking about this, sitting with two thousands words still demanding of my brain.
But if I type any words now, I think it’d just come out as why sexual needs are the destruction of all societies and civilisation instead of the actual thesis on structural inequality created by classes and religion.
I do not care if I should be Mother Theresa today and cut offs all contact and take a step further away before my hands find Will’s abs again and keep going lower of their own.
Because apparently I only have two modes. Mother Theresa or Mother Fucker. Oh Madonna. My heart is thumbing so loud inside my ribcage. I’m so wet from just thinking his name and the word fuck in the same paragraph.
I shake my head. How does one tell a guy that I can never ever be with you because I don’t want something that belonged to my sister first. That’s cheating of the sister-code.
BUT I still want you to fuck me stupid because it was the best sex of my life, given the low standards, but still was. Also, you’re really cute.
“So why didn’t you talk to Will after? Like the whole, what is this serious talk? He’s the first guy you sleep with here… or ever that I know of.”
Clearly, Jenny’s still on this and not letting go.
“First hookup in Princeton. Yup,” I tell Jenny. “I’ve been with other guys before. I’m not a virgin.”
“Relationship been-with or hookup been-with?” She presses me
“Both. I was dating a guy in high school, then a few hookups after over the summer before Princeton. Beach house guys were hot under the sun and swim shorts.”
“Tell me about it. Tanned skin and flat abs. I need to get out this miserable season asap.”
“Jenny! I don’t need that mental image right now! I need words, and theories, and references on religion.”
“Was the relationship serious though?” She gets curious fast.
“My ex? Serious enough.”
“You really liked him?”
“I really liked him. But he cheated on me and we broke up before graduation.”
I come back to my laptop and start typing while Jenny turns fully towards me with her mouth opens. “What the fuck? Another fucker in this world?”
This is probably the moment Jenny realises why I hate cheaters. I dated one. “Yep. With my best friend in high school. Ex best friend now. For weeks before graduation.”
Jenny doesn’t close her mouth. “What do you mean ex-best friend? So it wasn’t a one off? How did you find out?”
I turn to look at her properly as I recall the events of the last three months of my high school years.
“I stopped talking to them all together. Both of them don’t exist in my life anymore.
A friend of mine walked into them at a house party and apparently everyone already knew about their hookups. I was the last person to know.”
Has someone ever fucked up your head so much that you can’t even think about relationships without doubts anymore, cause all you do is sit there and think about what the fuck you did to deserve it? That was me at high school graduation ceremony.
My ex’s betrayal was bad. My ex best friend’s betrayal? So much fucking worse. I told her every single thing. We were attached by the hip, her hip though found my ex’s hip in some house parties’ bedrooms.
Jenny grits her teeth together. “Fuck. I’m so sorry Maddy. No one tells you for weeks?”
“Nope. But I would appreciate people telling me as soon as they know so I can stop faking my satisfaction in bed for an extra three weeks. I mean it wasn’t even just faking, it was painful as fuck so I would actually like to not have to do it.”
“Wait.” Jenny’s hand flies forward and grabs into mine. She looks horrified. “It was painful with your ex?”
“I mean, half of the time, I was dried off half way through.” Then I look at Jenny. “You’re always on on on? Like the whole time? With anyone?”
I need peer reviews right now because holy hell, my experience wasn’t normal?
“Yes Maddy love. I was on on on. Not when the guy is bad but out of the three I’ve been with, two was not bad. Like it was good enough. Definitely not painful!” She presses on the last word as a reminder to my now-realised abnormal experience.
I turn to her, whispering, not because I feel shy talking about girl sexual experience but because we’re in the fucking library with people who absolutely would discuss anything else.
“Okay. Maybe not always painful but I don’t think I was that turned on by my ex.
Maybe a little more with the guys at the beach house.
Maybe not on on on. Just on and a half.”
It is a complicated topic to explain or even making sense in conversation.
How do you actually talk about good or bad sex when there is absolutely no benchmark on what good sex feels or looks like?
When it’s only between two people? Okay sometimes three or four.
But then most of the time, you kinda just accept this is what sex feels like with this person.
And it’s not like my girl friends would talk about their experiences that openly.
Not in high school in New York at least. Because everything I’ve heard so far was either “We fucked. It was just sex.” Or “He liked it.” God forbid we, girls are bad in bed or with a partner who is bad in bed.
Everyone is excellent, fucks at the right amount of time.
No one is too short, too small, too normal.
And every guy I’ve been with since I lost my virginity, has told me while still inside me that the sex was insane.
I mean I did joke once For who? and my ex definitely didn’t appreciate my humour.
He pulled out so fast and walked straight to the shower without another word.
I was just glad that I didn’t tell him I didn’t come.
Not that he asked, but I would have lied.
“On and a half? You don’t even know what my on is to measure yours against. You just feel it. And last time I checked, on means zero pain.”
“I think I was just nervous with my ex. Like I wanted to make sure he had a good time.”
“And what about you?” Jenny stares at me again.
Of course. I should have known Jenny way earlier than Princeton, therefore I could have saved myself on several months of confusion.
“I know the whole thing around sex is more psychological for girls and that we can’t have good sex unless we’re relaxed and into the guy. But where’s the documents that point out exactly how you could we psychologically relaxed?”
“You can’t just command your body to relax!” Jenny cries then immediately rolls her eyes at me. “That’s half of the guy’s job!!!” A lot of emotions cross Jenny’s face. “If he doesn’t make you feel safe, I don’t think any amount of mantras could order your body to just fucking relax, Maddy!”
“I felt safe next to them.” I protest instantly.
I was really into my ex, and the boys at the beach. Halfway through, the on has somehow turned into the eh without my control or knowledge. I mean it was two casual hookups but I did the mental work to not let the word slut or hornball shuts my body down in anyways.
“Then your body knew something that you didn’t.” Jenny announces with confidence. “They didn’t touch you right, didn't say things right. And it’s not just in the moments, it was everything before it.”
“Wait. Did schools in France teach you all this? How to have good sex?” I ask out of curiosity as much as impression.
“Duh. We invented the real kiss. Passion baby. Passion is a skill not a natural talent.”
“That explains why the whole country is doing the French kiss.”
“That’s the only way to kiss. The other one is a peck. Anything less than twelve seconds? Not a kiss. The world needs to catch up on the correct vocabulary.” She briefly reaches for her water then turns back to me. “So how was Will? Was it also on and a half?”
I stare at Jenny then laugh so hard I immediately try to contain it with my hands. “Nope. It was more like fifty on electrocuting me at the same time.”