A Year to Remember (11 page)

We barely made it to my bed. We kissed on my porch, reminiscent of our teenage years, while I attempted to get my door open. Kissing frantically, our clothes peeled away as we made our way through the front door and down the hallway to my room. I hadn’t turned on any of the lights and our bodies were lit solely by the moonlight. We spent time reacquainting ourselves with each other, finding those places that brought us to the peak of ecstasy.

By the time we put on the condom and he plunged inside of me, I had been close to orgasm three times. I say close because I never actually got there. His sexual skills had improved since high school. At least now, he knew where to find the clitoris. The problem is he still didn’t know what to do with it.

I wish I could be one of those women who can say what she wants and how she wants it. Every time I hear Rhianna singing the song about how she’ll tell her man just how she likes it and that she won’t fake it, I think any man would beg for sexual instructions from her. But not from me. First of all, I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Second, it’s embarrassing. Third, I think maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just can’t relax enough to come. I always stayed quiet and unlike Rhianna, I’ll fake it. I can fake it so well even I’ll start to believe it.

Inside of me, Jamie felt nice and warm, but it didn’t feel hot and electric. Still, at least I’ve broken my sexual drought.

I could tell he was close, but he was holding back until I came. Now, I can do it two ways. I can either tell him to go ahead because I never come during sex, or I can fake it.

I run through the possible outcomes in my head. If I tell him I don’t come from intercourse, will he take it as a challenge and feel miserable when he fails? Or will he rise to the challenge, so to speak?

Unfortunately, I think he’ll fail. The longer we make love, the less turned on I feel. I liked it better when we were just kissing and petting.

In the end, I faked it. My fake orgasm rivaled that of the great Meg Ryan in one of my all-time favorite movies,
When Harry Met Sally
. I moan and I writhe and my head turns back and forth. I even clench my vaginal muscles to simulate contractions. I’ve never had a guy question it. They’re all so confident in their sexual prowess.

As soon as I “came,” Jamie had an orgasm. His body shuddered and he collapsed on top of me as I held him to me, massaging the muscles of his back.

“God Sara, that was so good,” he groaned.

“I agree,” I lied.

“Will they interview me for the
Morning
show?”

What the hell did he say?

“What do you mean? Why would they want to interview you?” I tried not to get overexcited, but I suddenly had the urge to roll him off the bed. Maybe I misunderstood his question.

“I thought you might mention us to them,” he said with a bit of uneasiness.

“Yeah, because I always go on television and broadcast who I have sex with. Is that why you asked me out tonight? So you could be famous?” I sat up, pulling on the blankets to cover my chest.

“No. I’m sorry, Sara. I really like you. I always have. My wanting you had nothing to do with your, uh, you know. Do you believe me?”

I glared at him, trying to determine if he was being honest or not. He looked back at me with big, puppy dog eyes. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Yes, I believe you.”

“Good,” he said with a smile.

He softly kissed my lips and rolled over next to me, his arm stretched out over my middle. It seemed a bit possessive and part of me relished it, while the other part wanted him to go home so I could sleep on my usual side of the bed. True to form, Jamie fell asleep before I even got up to use the bathroom.

I threw out our used condom and decided to take a quick shower. I stayed under the hot water, trying to wash away the emptiness. I assumed having sex again would propel me on my new path to making all my wishes come true. Instead, I couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion I had taken a wrong turn somewhere, only I didn’t know where or how to get back to where I needed to be.

It had been a long night and I probably had too much to drink. As I got into my pajamas, I convinced myself everything would seem clearer in the morning. After listening to Jamie’s light snoring, I fell asleep wondering if my newfound fame would help or hinder me in my search.

I felt a hand sliding under my nightgown and for a moment, I couldn’t remember to whom the hand belonged. Frankly, it felt so good, I honestly didn’t care. I arched my back into Jamie and moaned to let him know he had succeeded in waking me, as well as getting me in the mood.

“Good morning,” I breathlessly murmured as his fingers played and pinched my nipples. I felt his erection against the crease of my bottom knowing full well he probably woke every morning this way. Still, it felt good to be desired.

“Good morning, Sara,” he whispered into my ear.

I started to get excited as I decided to give Jamie another chance at sex. Three minutes and one used condom later, I was no closer to achieving orgasm and this time, he didn’t even seem to care.

He kissed my cheek saying he had morning breath, then went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

I prepared all the things I would say to him when he asked to see me again. “It was a mistake,” or “It was great, but I don’t think we should do it again” or “I’m just the transition girl, but you’ll find someone else when you’re ready.” I stayed in bed watching him get dressed. He really did have a great body.

As I watched him, I decided I had been panicking because it had moved so fast between us. I wanted to continue to see him, only now, I’d withhold the sex until I felt more comfortable with our relationship.

When he ran out the door without saying a single thing about seeing me again, my feelings of confliction turned into feelings of outrage. How dare he not ask me out after what we had shared last night! Did he use me as I had used him?

As soon as Jamie left, I called Missy to ask her opinion.

“Hello?” Missy said, sounding tired. I must have woken her.

“Hey, it’s me. I slept with him,” I informed her.

Missy suddenly woke, animated and energized. “Has Jamie improved with age like a fine wine, or have too many years of fermenting caused him to turn to vinegar?”

I didn’t want to discuss my lack of an orgasm with Missy.

“I’d say he’s turned into wine, but he needs some more time to mature before I’d consider him fine,” I replied, trying to give her an honest answer without revealing anything too personal.

“Are you going to see him again?”

I had no idea. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to me he’d left without getting my phone number, and I had no way to contact him.

“I’m not sure. I think we just used each other for sex.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

“Why? What do you know?”

She paused before sighing in acquiescence. “After you left, I talked some more with Don, and he filled me in on a couple of things.”

Did I really want to hear what she had to say? Should I stop her before the truth tarnishes the reality? Since I’d probably never hear from him again based on his behavior this morning, I guess it couldn’t hurt.

“What did Don say?”

“Last night was supposed to be Jamie’s wedding. His fiancée dumped his ass last weekend after she found out he had been cheating on her throughout their entire relationship.”

I had no words to describe how shocked I felt at hearing Jamie could act like such a jerk. The Jamie I fell in love with in high school would have never cheated. I thought back to our conversation last night about his father’s infidelity. Had his father’s actions caused Jamie to change, or had he grown into a hereditary trait? Was it a learned behavior, or ingrained in him at the start?

I’d never have the chance to know, because with my newfound knowledge, I’d never see him in the same way and the new Jamie was not someone I wanted to get to know better. I’m guessing that’s why he high tailed it out of my place first thing this morning.

“Why didn’t you call me and tell me last night?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d want to know. You were pretty intent on getting laid and I didn’t want to stop you. You needed it, and I figured you were safe with Jamie. I assumed you wouldn’t fall in love with him overnight, so I could wait and tell you in the morning. Was I wrong? Should I have called you last night?”

If she had called me last night, I would have never gotten to feel a man naked against me, and I had missed it. Or rather, I missed the intimacy. If I hadn’t slept with Jamie last night, I might not have learned what I really craved.

Not sex.

Love.

“I’m glad you waited and told me this morning. You really are the best friend anyone could have.”

“Does that mean you’ll come to my program today at the retirement home?”

“Anything for you.”