How Long You Should Wait to Have Sex: a Novel (24 page)

“It’s fine. Just write me a check. You have to make it out to my company, anyway.”

“There’s gotta be something I can do just for you, though. You’re the one who’s done this for me. Don’t I have anything that you need?”

“You always give me your advice on things. That’s worth a lot of money according to the price schedules we’ve set up on your consulting website. So you’ve already given me some valuable stuff.”

“Well let me give you more advice then. What do you need to know? Please let me advise you. It’s the least I can do. How are things with John?”

I do have a question, and I don’t even need to think about it. It’s top of mind.

“Actually, there is something I’ve been wondering about.”

“Yes!” he exclaims, pulling his fist and elbow down into himself, like he just won a bet.

“Would a guy ever tell a girl if she was no good in bed?”

“Probably not,” Marty replies, casually.

“Then how’s she supposed to know if she needs work?”

“I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about. You’re beautiful and sexy and confident. More than anything, that’s what turns a guy on.” It’s nice to hear those things said out loud, even if it’s not John doing the saying. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t answer my question.

“But what if every time I have sex with a guy, he freaks out and breaks up with me?”

“That happens to you with every guy?” he says both shocked and a little uncomfortable for me.

“No, not every guy. I just meant with John.”

“Oh,” he smiles, clearly not aware that smiling at my misery is not an appropriate reaction. “Did you guys break up?”
“Not recently. But still, I’m always scared to have sex with him for real, because I don’t know if he’ll leave me again. And after what you said in that last interview, I think it might be because I’m no good at sex.”

“Well if this only happens with him, it might not be you. It might be the combination of him and you. I mean, with chemistry, you either have it or you don’t. It comes down to pheromones and immunity genes, but if you’re looking at it from a practical point of view, it can seem totally arbitrary.” Can it really be that black and white?

“What if it’s me, though? I just need some way of knowing if I’m doing something wrong…” He’s the expert. He must know of something I can do to find out how to fix whatever I’m doing wrong.

“Well, I—“ he starts to offer, struggling to get the words out, “I mean, if you wanted me to, I could probably—I mean, I would be happy to help you figure it out.”

“How exactly—I mean, what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” he says as if regretting his offer, “I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to suggest.” He lowers his head and turns beat red from embarrassment. OMG!

“Were you suggesting that we have sex?” I blurt, shocked at having deciphered his slightly cryptic message, but also comfortable enough around him, to simply lay the facts on the table.

I turn red, as I realize from his now purple shade, that I’ve embarrassed him further by putting him on the spot.

“It was a dumb idea,” he fumbles to say. “I was just thinking that it would be the most straight forward way to find out, but yeah, stupid. I mean, why would you wanna have sex with me? You’re with John. And yeah, he’s dreamy.”

“Not to mention that you’ve slept with my best friend.”

“Lacey? Did she tell you that? Because I never slept with her. Never even got to first base, if you recall.”

Oh, that’s right, it got erased the time I went back and met John for the first time, the second time.

We sit in silence for a while, as I try to think of some other way that Marty could help me figure out if bad sex is the reason John keeps leaving me. Marty fiddles awkwardly with his hands. I can feel his discomfort through the air. I don’t know how to tell him that I’m not nearly as upset over his suggestion as he thinks I am. In fact, I’m a little flattered that he would want to help me so badly that he’d offer to have casual sex with me. Then again, casual sex for a guy isn’t necessarily that big of a deal, and in some ways, I’d probably be doing him a favor too, because now that he hasn’t had sex with Lacey, lord only knows how long it’s been since the last time he got laid.

“I hate myself,” he mutters, out of the blue.

“No, don’t! I’m not—it was a perfectly thoughtful idea.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re the nicest person who ever lived, and you don’t want me to feel stupid. But it’s not working. I will always know you’re just being a sweetheart, and I will never stop feeling stupid. In my defense, though, I was just trying to think of a way I could help you. I should shut up though, before I come across like a guy who thinks I’m helping girls by having sex with them. Eck! I’m really lame. I’ll stop.”

Even as he makes me feel worse, Marty makes me feel better. I’m the nicest person who ever lived? That’s a first.

“Okay, here’s an idea of how you could help with this,” I offer, “what if, I have sex with John, and then I come up with some situation where you guys are together, and then you use your professional status to ask him if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Oh, yeah, that would be really comfortable for me: ‘Hi, Samantha asked me to ask you if you like her, and if you wanna go with her—and since we’re not in seventh grade anymore, I’m obviously referring to how you’d rate her as a fuck.’” I laugh. He’s hilarious. Then he adds, “On a scale of 1 to 10?”

The tension is pretty well broken by our laughter, not to mention the fact that I’m now the one to have most recently suggested a stupid idea.

“Okay,” I concede, still laughing, “but what if I could guarantee that neither you nor John would remember that this conversation ever happened?” Marty looks at me sideways, but only because what I have just said is completely insane to anyone who has never lived through a time-loop, which I would imagine includes the majority of everyone. “Just go with me. What if?”

“If you could make us all forget everything—in this made-up world of yours, where no one remembers the awful, embarrassing parts of their life—then you may as well just have sex with me!”

Bold idea. Would I feel okay with that? It would only be for educational purposes, and really it would be something I did to make John enjoy sex with me more, so it would be possible to justify as something that I’m actually doing for him. It’s like taking a class in anything, I guess. If John wanted me to be a better cook, he wouldn’t mind if I took a cooking class, so why should he mind if I take a self-improvement class in sex? Especially one that he’s never going to know about, because it will be deleted from everyone’s memory but mine, and therefore practically not exist.

Still, a sex class seems like the kind of thing I should take as a couple, with John. Although that would probably require us having sex and getting naked in front of Marty—or whatever teacher we chose to go to—and I don’t think that would be comfortable for either of us. Plus, John would never agree to it. And how would I bring it up, considering he thinks we’ve never had sex. “Um, hi John, I know we haven’t had sex yet, but instead of trying it together in private for our first time, how would you feel about doing it in front of a practical stranger, and getting pointers on how we can do it better?” No, that will never work. I’d rather just sleep with John, take my own lesson, and then wish it all away to a time when it never happened.

But do I want to have sex with Marty? I mean, he’s okay, but I don’t even know if I could get aroused by him. He’s really not my type. Maybe if I think about all the nice things he’s said to me. Those are major turn-ons. I definitely trust him enough, so that’s good. And I know he would have some really great advice for me. What if taking a class from Marty is my only hope to keep John?

I don’t talk much to Marty for the rest of the flight. I’m too busy debating with myself about what the right thing to do is. Marty also seems lost in thought.

As we walk through the terminal at SFO, Marty is first to bring up the thing he’s been lost in thought about.

“Samantha, I’m really embarrassed. I never should have suggested we have sex. I was out of line. And now I just feel weird about it. I wouldn’t want you to think—“

I nip his insecurities in the bud by speaking over him, “It’s okay. I wanna do it.”

“What? Really?” he says, not sure he heard me right.

“Yeah. I wanna have sex with you.”

“But… I was joking. Kind of. I mean, I wouldn’t feel right if I broke up your relationship.”

He is so sweet.

“You won’t break it up. John’s not going to know about this, remember?”

“I’m also not comfortable being the other man.”

I sigh. I kind of got my heart set on knowing what an expert like Marty thinks of my sexual abilities. And he’s not the other man, since it’s not cheating, because I’m doing it to learn to please John, and I’m going to erase the whole thing from existence as soon as it’s done.

“Would it make you feel better if I ran the idea by John first, and got his approval? I’ll present it like I just wanna take a lesson from you so that I can have new and improved skills for him.”

“Sure, that would make me feel better about it, except that as someone who cares about you—a lot—I feel it’s my moral obligation to warn you that he’s not gonna like that idea at all. I’d even go so far as to wager that it leads to the fight which leads to your breakup.”

Hmmm. Marty is right about that. But I can’t tell Marty that I’m not going to tell John, I’m just going to have sex with him so that I can set back time.

“I see your point, Marty, but I think I have a way to present the concept to John, which will make him like it,” I explain confidently. And I do. I’m going to present it to him naked, with his penis in my vagina, using only the words, “ooh” and “aah.”

Chapter 28

Marty and I share a cab from the airport. I call John.

When he picks up, I say, “John, I’ve missed you so much. Can I come over? I wanna put all this waiting to rest.” Marty squirms a little next to me in the back seat of the cab. I guess it’s never fun listening to another person’s coo-ey private talk.

“Yeah! That would be great!” John exclaims with the enthusiasm of a guy who’s about to have sex with his girlfriend for the first time, after waiting almost 9 months. “How soon will you be there? Because I’m not there now, but I can go there in about 20 minutes.”

“Great, I’ll be there in 30,” I reply.

“Perfect! I’ll see you then!” John says excitedly before hanging up the phone.

I hang up and then turn to Marty, “I’ll just deal with him tonight, and maybe see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow.” Tomorrow is the weekend, since talk shows shoot on weekdays. “Should we do it during the day, maybe, to make it really unromantic?”

“That’s a great idea, Marty! You think of everything.” I give him my address. “My place at, say, noonish?”

Marty nods. I can’t tell if he’s happy to do this or totally petrified.

“Hey, are you okay with this?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to do it.”

“Oh?”

“No—What I meant was, I’ve been wanting to do something to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me!” he quickly clarifies, to make sure I don’t think he likes me. “I mean, not that sex with me is such a big favor, or all that great. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m not making any promises, okay? It’ll just be purely platonic, instructional sex, revolving around whatever I can teach you about biology and physiology and the differences between men and women’s needs and… you know, whatever.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. That’s exactly what I want,” I say, trying not to let it get weird.

Thankfully, we’re at his place, so he can get out of the car now. We drop him off, say “See ya’ tomorrow,” and I give the cabbie John’s address. I hope this idea isn’t a giant mistake. Then again, I’m the only one who’s going to know about it, so I guess whether or not it’s a mistake will only be up to me.

~

John opens the door wearing scrubs and a giant smile on his face.

“It’s so good to see you,” he says. “I missed you something awful.”

“Me, too,” I reply, seductively. “Being away from you all week made me realize that I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

I probably didn’t need to work that hard, because as I enter I see that he’s lit the whole place in candles and has romantic music playing, and a path of rose petals on the floor. He’s really gone all out for this. I guess he wanted to do something special for our “first time”.

“I couldn’t wait anymore either,” he replies before kissing me hello passionately. “Come here.”

He takes me by the hand along the path of roses to his bedroom.

“Wow, I love what you’ve done with the place!”

“After our last talk, before you left, I could tell you were starting to feel as impatient as I was to do this, so I wanted to make it something that you’d remember forever.”

I love that he’s trying to be romantic, but I also have a lot left to do today before I go to bed, and I don’t wanna be too worn out for my lesson tomorrow, so I have to get this over with fast. I mean, if John is gonna think I suck at sex anyway, I may as well get in and out in a hurry, so I can wish it all away, and get on with learning how to do it right.

Thankfully, in all the times we’ve had sex so far, I’ve had a chance to discover a few tricks as to what gets him going fastest, and what makes him finish soonest.

He likes having his earlobes sucked, so I make sure to start with a little of that. Good. He’s breathing heavy. His nipples are another erogenous zone, so I give them a little attention with my fingertips, while I keep working on his ears and neck with my mouth. His pelvis is already starting to arch up. Why is he still wearing pants? Better get those off.

Okay, bottoms off for both of us, I rub myself against him once or twice. I’m not really warmed up myself, but who cares. I use my hand to put him inside of me. Despite my lack of foreplay, penetration feels good, but I have no time to enjoy myself today. I just want to get to climax, get home, take a bath, catch up on a week’s worth of reading for my real job, and then see if I can get some rest in before my big lesson tomorrow.