Not That Easy (18 page)

NSFW

Relationships are meant to be romantic. That's a given that no one really ever questions. You're not meant to ask the details about the exes, or how many people they've slept with, because you love each other. None of that matters. It's all about the now.

But . . . what if you're not in love. Like, at all. And instead you're casually dating. Can you ask then? Are “numbers” still a no-go or are you allowed to request a written list of every girl they've ever shagged?

That was the dilemma I had last weekend. It was after my date to the Shard—told you he'd take me—but it was still only the third date, give or take. Was I allowed to ask him how many people he'd slept with?

Probably not, but I did it anyway. We were lying in bed and out of nowhere, we had the chat. By “we,” I
mean “I,” because obviously it was me who brought it up. He reluctantly told me his number. It was more than five times the size of mine. He thinks it could possibly be even higher.

I don't really know why I wanted to know. I think it was just a way to get to know him better. But it was also probably a way for me to try to stop that little voice asking “why on earth is he with you?” Sadly, it didn't quite stop that insecurity.

But I don't regret my decision. Because it isn't like we're in a relationship where I might freak out about that, and wonder if we're compatible because he's so much more experienced than me. It's just causal dating, and, honestly, who cares if he's had more sex than me?

If anything, that's just incentive to start catching up.

•   •   •

I spent the rest of the week trying to avoid Maxine as much as possible, and then rushing home to see Nick. We'd seen each other four times since the spontaneous Shard date and, when I wasn't shagging him, I was at home Googling tips on it. I still hadn't come, but I was definitely on my way. The fact that he was just a fuck buddy definitely helped. I didn't have to worry about trying to impress him—all I had to do was open my legs and occasionally provide some good banter. Honestly? I had no idea why Lara was bothered that Jez wasn't relationship material. Casual sex was the best of both worlds.

It was exhausting though. We'd drunk a bottle of wine last night and had sex in front on the TV. We'd even progressed to the kitchen where he'd tried to fuck me on the counter—until I'd found dried cheese on my bum cheek and forced him into the bedroom. Ever
since Will had nicked my hummus, I'd gone off the whole sex and food thing. In fact, I'd barely even seen Will lately. I felt a pang of guilt over the fact I hadn't replied to Emma's last WhatsApp. She'd wanted to go out over the weekend but I'd already promised Nick a shagathon. In the end, she'd gone home to hang with her family.

I pushed the front door open, yawning. It looked like I'd have the place to myself until Emma came home this evening. Will was away with Raj and the lights weren't on in Ollie's room. He was clearly out too. I dumped my stuff in my room and collapsed on the bed. It was kind of nice to be home alone. It was fun spending time with Nick, but I still didn't feel like I could a hundred percent be myself in front of him. I hadn't farted in days. Also, it did kind of suck that he hadn't made me orgasm, especially because I was often so close to it. All I had to do was tell him to move his fingers a bit, or go faster, but I just couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. I just felt too awkward telling him what to do.

But now, I didn't really have that problem . . . I pulled my leggings down and started touching my clit. It felt so good to know I could bring myself to orgasm. I started the breathing Veronica had taught us, then I remembered—my sex toys. I'd gone straight to Nick's after the session and I still hadn't used them. They were probably still in the handbag I'd been using. I jumped out of bed and went to get the bag.

The vibrator was pink and soft. I cradled it, admiring its streamlined design and semi-resemblance to a penis. I pressed the hidden “on” button and it glowed electric blue. It also began buzzing at full volume. I turned it off in alarm, and switched on my radio so it would cover any sounds if the flatmates came back.

I had to do this properly. I'd need to do it with my breathing, my fantasies and everything else. I closed my eyes to try and drown out Jay-Z rapping about his ninety-nine problems, and slipped my hand down to my vagina. I stroked my clitoris gently and tried to
create a fantasy like Emma and the sex teacher had suggested. I imagined Ryan Gosling standing next to me naked, but it didn't feel right. He was too famous for me to try to make him wank all over my naked body.

My fantasy man would have to be faceless—but with Ryan's body. I needed a setting. Maxine's office popped into my head. This was good, I could visualize a powerful male boss and use Lara's “dominate me, please” fantasy.

“Come in,” he said.

I walked into the room. My boobs were bigger, more pert, and I had magically lost ten pounds. “Yes?”

“Ellie, you have been very naughty.”

“I have?”

“I think you need to come over here and get on your knees.”

I groaned out loud. My fantasy was crap. It sounded like a bad porno—probably because I'd seen more sex on a screen than in real life. Screw solo foreplay—I would just get the vibrator back and shove it inside me.

It buzzed into action and I gently rubbed it against my clitoris. It felt similar to using my bullet and I started to gasp familiarly. I pulled it off and stopped myself before I came from my C-spot. That was the easy one—I needed to try and find the others.

I slipped the vibrator inside me. I felt an uncontrollable urge to laugh at the buzzing sensation but stopped myself. Finding my A-spot was serious business, let alone my G-spot, which was a whole new level. I forced myself to concentrate and pushed the vibrator deeper into me. I cried out. It felt like it was jabbing into my ovaries. Nick had never gone this far into me—I didn't think his penis would be able to reach. Fuck, was this my A-spot??

I pushed the vibrator in farther and it hit the same spot but I did not feel like I was about to orgasm. I cheated and started stroking my clitoris again. I sighed in pleasure, and wished girls could
only come from their clits. This whole A–G-spot thing was getting stressful.

I felt my vagina lube up and took the vibrator out. I wanted to try to find my G-spot with my fingers. I slipped my right index finger in and tried to find this walnut that Veronica had been talking about. It just felt squishy and clammy inside. It was kind of gross. Why had James Martell been so keen to shove his fingers up here in Year Thirteen?

I sighed in frustration. I couldn't feel the walnut. Maybe I wasn't turned on enough. I closed my eyes again and tried to get back to being dominated by my fantasy man.

“Suck me,” he commanded.

I went over to him and took off the belt of his trousers. I went to throw it away, and then changed my mind. This was my fantasy. I could do whatever I wanted. I took the belt, which suddenly turned into a rope, and tied him to the chair.

“No,” I said. “I want you to suck me.”

I popped open my slutty blouse and shoved my boobs in his face. He started sucking my right nipple.

I felt my face heating up. It was fun getting into the fantasy, but I felt so embarrassed that I was dangling my nipple in a man's face. I hadn't realized shame could creep into fantasies.

I ignored the religious guilt my grandparents had tried to teach me, and ripped off my man's clothes. I ran my hands over his body and grabbed his penis. He gasped.

I pushed his chair onto the floor so his little head was bobbing up and I sat on his face. He obligingly started licking my clitoris—but then dream-me started freaking out that it smelled.

“Fuck me,” I said.

His ropes vanished and, in a split second, he was thrusting into me from behind. I slipped my fingers into my vagina. It was fully lubed up now. The fantasy was working. Who knew I was into
dominating—although I was making him do doggy. Wasn't that more being dominated? Oh who fucking cared, I'd just found my WALNUT.

It was on the front wall of my vagina, just as Veronica had promised. It was like a tiny little knot. I rubbed it and grinned. It felt good. But it still didn't feel orgasmic. Maybe I needed the vibrator?

I shoved it in, but, annoyingly, I couldn't make it hit the right spot. I grunted as I leaned over to try to angle it in. It was almost hitting it; I just needed to—

“Ellie?” The door burst open and Ollie was standing in front of me. My open legs were in his face. I let go of the vibrator and it buzzed out of me onto the bedspread.

“ARGH,” I screamed. “What are you doing? Get out of my bedroom!”

He stood frozen, staring at my vagina. I slammed my legs shut and pulled a blanket over me. The vibrator was still buzzing and glowing on the bed.

“Get out!” I yelled.

He blinked and ran out of the room. Oh fuck. This was not good. The flatmate I seriously fancied had just seen me in the most inappropriate position imaginable. My vagina had been in his face. Oh God, I would never be able to face him again.

I turned the buzzing vibrator off and pulled on my knickers and some leggings. Should I go into his room and try to explain? But it had been pretty self-explanatory. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.

There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” I asked nervously, knowing exactly who it would be.

“Ollie. Can I come in?”

Oh God oh God oh God. “Erm, okay.”

The door crept open and Ollie was standing there, looking
apologetic. The sunlight from my window fell onto his perfect profile and I bit my lip with desire. I'd much rather have a night with him than my fantasy guy.

“Hey, Ellie, I'm really sorry I walked in on you like that.”

“Oh, no worries,” I said breezily. “It's fine, whatever. Let's just pretend it never happened.”

“I did knock though,” he said. “I think you just didn't hear me because of the music.” He gestured to the radio, which was now playing some kind of house music.

“Honestly, it's fine. I know you didn't mean to barge in.”

“Okay,” he said. “Hey, can I sit on your bed?”

“Sure,” I said, gesturing to a corner. He sat down and looked at me. We were about thirty centimeters apart because my bed was made for a child. “What's up?”

“Just . . . thought we should talk.”

“Can't we just pretend nothing happened? I think I'm too embarrassed to relive what just happened.”

“What were you doing?” he asked curiously, totally ignoring my plea.

I stared at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“I just . . . were you masturbating?” he asked, looking straight into my eyes. His eyes were an insanely clear blue and it felt like they were piercing straight into my throbbing clitoris.

I sighed. There was no point beating around the bush. “I got a new vibrator,” I said bluntly. “I was just trying it out, and thought I'd have a look for my A-spot.”

“What's that?”

“Erm, it's an erogenous zone that you can orgasm from.” I looked up at Ollie to see his face squirm or laugh, but he actually looked interested. Maybe he wanted to learn some tips to use on Yomi. The bitch.

He grinned at me. “You were trying to orgasm?”

“That is generally the goal of masturbation.”

“Wow, that's . . . I haven't met a girl who's so open about this kind of stuff before. Yomi is not keen on discussing this sort of thing. I don't think she ever masturbates.”

“Really? I thought every girl did.”

“Nah. She's kind of . . . reserved when it comes to sex,” he explained. “It kind of sucks. Seeing as we've been together for four years, I guess things are getting a bit stale.”

I stared at him in surprise. He clearly wasn't happy with Yomi. Maybe . . . maybe he would break up with her and shag me forever? “That sucks,” I said, as sympathetically as I could. “Have you, uh, tried to liven it up a bit?”

“Honestly, I think the only thing that could liven it up would be to sleep with someone else.”

I choked on air. “Wow, right. That's pretty intense.”

“Yeah,” he said. Was I imagining this or was he staring straight at me? Like, in a very sexual way?

“So, um, are the others all out tonight?”

“Yeah, they're not coming back till late tomorrow,” he said. “Do you want to have a drink?”

“Um, okay.”

He left the room and came back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “I remember you like whiskey, right?”

What was it with men trying to make me drink straight whiskey? I sighed. “Yep. Normally with a mixer, but, hey, why not.”

“Yeah, sorry we don't have any mixers unless you want some Ribena?” I grimaced. “Thought so. Here you go.”

I took the glass he offered me and sipped it. It was horrible. “Ugh,” I said, as I drank more. “Horrid but addictive.”

“Isn't it? Hey, Ellie, it's nice you and me hanging out like this. I feel like we never get to do it.”

I blushed. It was so nice to hear my name coming out of his lips.
His perfect—
okay, focus, Ellie. “
Yeah, no, it's fun. I guess you're often up staying with Yomi, and I'm just always at work doing whatever Maxine says.”

“Yeah, or out on one of your Internet dates. How are those going?”

“Oh, you know, just . . . shit. But I met a guy in real life, can you believe it, and I've been seeing him.”

“Hey, is this your one-night stand?”

I blushed again. It was so awkward that Emma and Will told Ollie everything. He would never fancy me—even if Yomi was out of the picture—now he knew every humiliating detail about my sad sex life. Oh, and the fact he'd seen my hairy vagina. “Yeah, Nick. I've seen him a couple of times since. It's pretty cas.”