Chapter Six
. . .
What is a chaturanga?
This is ridiculous.
Quietly, I land at the bottom step, my feet cautious and my head on a swivel in an attempt to mitigate running into them.
Thankfully, the guys disappeared into town today. So unlike yesterday, when Moon had to work her magic to get me a spa day just so I’d come out of my room, I should be safe today.
Should being the operative word.
So just in case, I’m sneaking down the stairs like some kind of cartoon character. But it’s fair because even my dreams were a journey between reliving humiliation and being horny.
And to be real, they were mostly horny, thanks to all the boys’ indecent flirting. Indecently delicious flirting. Still, all the humiliation is present and accounted for, so I’d very much like my pussy to shut the fuck up.
She’s getting me into too much of a mess.
In my opinion, the fatal flaw in restarting your life is experiencing embarrassing new moments that keep you awake as they replay over and over in your mind. I’d just made peace with my old ones, now I get a new crop? This is bullshit.
I’m not emotionally equipped to handle this. Never have I ever felt more empathetic toward Steve Carell in The 40-Year-Old Virgin.
The kind of awkwardness that keeps emanating from me is wild. And I can’t stop it. Every time I’m around them, “I don’t know what to do with my hands,” to quote Ricky Bobby, keeps happening.
Again, my mind betrays me and says, How about you put them around their dicks?
I guess I lost my hymen twenty-some-odd years ago, but now it’s time I lose my mind. Without permission, Brody’s voice plays in my head. “I like older women. This is me flirting with you.”
Fuck.
The most obscene part of all this is that I should be ecstatic. I’m living the dream. Some hot, younger guys want to make eyes at me. This is a gift from the universe.
Until it happens in real life. Because what I know about myself is that I’m in no way prepared to take that on.
He’s…he’s…he’s just so…
“Hot,” I hear from next to me, making me jump and shriek.
“Fuck!”
“Jesus, Margot,” my sister says, staring at me like I’m crazy.
“Sorry. Sorry.” I look exactly as she described while I try to unscramble my brain, looking around. “Wait. Where did you come from?”
Her expression is deadpan. “Babes.”
I clear my throat. “What? I’m good. You just startled me.”
“By telling you it’s hot outside? Okay. Look, weirdo, we both know why you’re so skittish, but rest assured, you’re fine. They aren’t here today.”
If I was trying for incognito or nonchalant, the sigh that relaxes my shoulders is a dead giveaway that I’m the opposite.
“I’m that obvious?”
She nods. “Yeah. But it’s understandable. It’s not every day three hot guys all want your body.”
“Shhhh,” I hiss.
I never should’ve confirmed what she saw happen in the kitchen with Brody. Because once I did, she came up with this ridiculous theory that they’re all interested. I literally had to block her number last night when she started texting about how I should have a foursome with them.
She’s crazy. People don’t do that.
Unless they’re in my dreams. Because apparently, once she planted the seed, my mind went about watering it.
I grin to myself, pulling from the memories with a tiny shake of my head.
“Stop saying that. Brooks wasn’t flirting for real, and I’m sure Wells is just entertained by my embarrassment. They’re just being nice because I’m your sister. And doing this is making my affliction worse. So shut up.”
This time, she laughs before linking arms with me to lead me outside.
“First off, the way you say affliction makes it sound like you’re a nineteenth-century Victorian child. Second, if you hadn’t blocked me, I would’ve told you that they are most certainly, verifiably interested in you.”
I jerk her to a stop. “What? What?” The second what is louder than the first.
She’s smiling maniacally. Well, maybe she’s smiling normally, but I’m still categorizing it as a horror movie.
“Try and be cool,” she says calmly.
Ironic because I feel my chest get hot. I narrow my eyes at her as she continues.
“I had a little chat with them in the kitchen last night. I can confirm they think you’re hot…”
“You spoke to them? You asked them if they thought I was hot? Why would you do that? I’m never speaking to you again.”
But in the middle of my rant, she chews her bottom lip. Just like when we were kids. She’s hiding something.
“What else? Spill it. What did you say?”
With an innocent shrug, she says, “I may have told them you felt the same.”
“Sloane—” My eyes bugging out of my head serve as my what the fuck! Not that it deters her from continuing.
“You do… This is good, Margot. You need a lifetime of catch-up, and they’re all in. Trust me, teaching might be their love language.”
“Teaching!” I burst out before looking around.
I can barely form words, but the ones that come out sound something like, “They know about micro penis? And everything else?”
She nods as if I asked her if she likes sunshine. It’s so casual. Which makes me irate. I actually visualize screaming before drop-kicking her.
“How could you do this to me?” I grit out. “I came here to relax. To get Zen. Not to—”
“Gimme a break,” she cuts in. “You don’t even do yoga, Margot. And the wellness you need is—”
“Regardless,” I snap. “I did not come here for my sister to set me up with three children for sexcapades.”
At that very moment, a woman walks by, the same one whose purse I ruined. She stares at us, making Moonbeam try and hide her smile and me vigorously shake my head.
“No, no, no…not children. Grown men, just younger than me. I’m not having sex with children. I’m not having sex period, actually.”
The woman looks between us before walking away a little faster. And that’s fair.
My face whips back to Moon’s. “I’m gonna kill you. Right after the FBI comes to investigate me.”
“You’re being so dramatic—” She rolls her eyes like I’m spoiling the mood. “—and ungrateful. This is exactly what you need. What happened to, ‘I want someone to break my back.’ Well, I found you three grown men to do it. You’re welcome.”
I smack her shoulder quickly.
“Ow,” she complains.
“And I’m supposed to what? Choose between friends? Rotate them? Like, I’m on the Pornhub version of The Bachelorette? Or have a foursome like you joked last night. I’ll have you know I had insane dreams because of your smutty brain. So no, Sloane. Hard pass. This is awful.”
Her expression shifts. It’s not a wince or a grimace, but there’s a change. It’s enough to make my head draw back and for silence to suddenly fall between us.
She does the lip thing again, and I scowl.
“What?”
She takes my hands in hers and stares me directly in my eyes.
“Margot. They like you. They want you.”
“But I—”
She cuts me off. “They is the operative word. You don’t have to choose because Brody, Brooks, and Wells are a team sport, baby. It’s three for the price of one orgasm.”
There are no words and no breath in my body. Not even a thought exists other than holy fucking shit.
She was serious last night.
Three. A team sport.
I’m frozen in place, unable to define how I’m feeling. Just staring at Moonbeam as I wonder what words are and how they can make my brain malfunction like this.
“Are you okay?” she urges. “Say something.”
“I’m wondering if someone can be fucked to death? What do they put on a death certificate? Jizzafication? You told them I was interested in joining the team? You better be fucking kidding. How…oh my god. Why?”
Moon laughs. “How is the easy part.”
“Doubtful,” I grind out, still spiraling.
They want to fuck me. At the same time. And she told them I was in.
My dream comes to mind, but I dismiss it with a wave of my hand.
But my sister locks eyes with me. “FYI, Margot, you still haven’t said no…”
Shut up is all I think as I stare back. “I am very aware that I haven’t said no, but I’m also well outside my comfort zone. And obviously, it’s a no… I mean, yeah, because how… That’s not something I would ever do.”
I couldn’t. I shouldn’t.
“And sometimes what the body wants, the mind should reject. Because three? At the same time?”
That damn dream flits in again, warming my cheeks.
I can’t.
“You said you wanted to do it all as long as it’s nothing you’ve done before. Be careful what you secretly wish for,” Moon chuckles. “Because dreams really do come true.”
I’m twenty minutes into Moon’s half-hour yoga class but still existing back in the hall when she told me three guys want to fuck me…at the same time.
Now that the shock’s worn off, it’s still almost too unbelievable. Not the part where they’d want to fuck me. I’m very fuckable. But three men with distinct sexual tastes saw me and said, “Give us that one.”
Technically, I suppose I was offered up by my Rated X for e(x)ceptionally annoying sister, but still, they all want me.
Despite that fact, I have zero plans to accept any and all offers for a party line of sex. And yet, I can’t stop thinking about the logistics and what she repeated back to me.
I did say I wanted to exist outside my comfort zone. I did.
But this feels like a different universe.
It’s not like I live under a rock. I know in the sixties, orgies were all the rage, but this feels way too cool for current times.
Nobody’s this free. Especially not a bunch of Gen Zers.
Come on, in today’s world, you fuck the wrong group, and the next thing you know, they’ve made an eight-part social media series about it. Like, get ready with us to have a foursome at a luxury estate in Malibu.
Or would it be more like a “What’s in my bag?”
Because definitely lube, lots of lube. And condoms. But what if people like it dirty? Like getting spanked…would they need a roller bag to go to the fucking? Because where would people store all the paddles? Then again, they could just use their hands.
Why am I thinking about spankings?
Immediately, Brooks strolling up to my red ass at the pool comes to mind when he said, “What are you into?”
Dick, my mind populates in answer, making me bite the inside of my cheek.