“Every time I hear about some guy stabbing, shooting, or running his girlfriend over with his car, that just proves to me that I should stay away from men. I mean, can you imagine that you saved yourself, and end up with a psycho?”
GG’s mouth and eyes fall open at Traci’s comment. “Saved yourself? You mean like a virgin or something? Perish that thought! This is the 21st Century. No one saves themselves anymore. Did you?” GG asked amazed by the concept of a 28-year-old virgin.
The two women were having dinner in GG’s small studio apartment. It was so small that Traci could see into the bathroom from where she was sitting. Granted the place was neat and tidy. Traci guessed the adage was true about the more room you had. Her one bedroom apartment was congested and messy. This was a rare event for the two co-workers. After many invites to girls’ night out, Traci finally jumped at the chance to escape her apartment, and the salacious thoughts of her hunky landlord, Raun Hartman. Traci liked everything about him too much, from his voice, to his walk, to his rare dimpled smiles, and OMG his muscular body. His body was not bulging with muscles upon muscles, but it was lean and muscle defined. There my mind goes again into Raun-Land. Mentally shaking her head to banish images of Raun walking in his easy sexy stride, jeans hung low on his narrow hips, chest bare and inviting her mouth to suck his small flat chocolate chip nipples, and her tongue to traverse down the light furrow of dark hair, which disappeared into his waistband.
“Traci! Earth to Traci! Did you save yourself?”
“I’m not talking about me,” mumbled Traci, as color stained her high cheek bones. “I was just speaking in general.”
“Oh-kaaay,” replied GG. “You know, not all guys are like Ian,” stated GG.
Morosely Traci replied, “But some are, and that’s just my point. Some are simply psychotic.” Lord, please don’t let Raun be psychotic.
“I never asked at the time, but did Ian do more than… than you know, threaten you with rrrape?” Laughing self-consciously, GG twirled a lank of her auburn hair, as she looked down at her clean plate. “Was he your–?”
“I really don’t want to talk about Ian, EVER! Suffice it to say, I’m not a virgin. But even if I was, there’s nothing wrong with that!”
“Sorry.” Both looked embarrassed. GG still wondered what really happened between Ian and Traci. She had seemed like such a wounded bear after the incident. Although she walked upright with her head held high, everyone could see the hurt and disillusionment she carried years later. Moving the subject back to relationships in general, GG said, “If you say so, but I personally find a lot wrong with being introduced to sex now. I mean, when you’re young, you’re more flexible. I think at an older age your body is too stiff to maneuver effectively.”
“FYI, I still see myself as young. I think I’ll be young well into my sixties,” laughed Traci.
“Well I was speaking about teenagers.”
“When you say teenagers, how old or young we talking bout?” Traci’s Barbadian accent became more noticeable. Sometimes GG forgot that Traci wasn’t African American. She looked like any other New Yorker on the street. She actually resembled a model in the way her clothes fit her Barbie doll body. Her short hair was kept close to her head, and her make-up was so subtle, it was almost nonexistent. Sighing, GG ignored that question and forged ahead.
“Think about how flexible you were ten years ago. At sixteen, I could put my feet behind my neck. Today I’m lucky if I can cross my legs with ease.”
“Well aren’t you still self-conscious with body image, especially with a new guy?”
“That’s my point. With a new guy at this age, our bodies have muscle memory, and can get into positions without revealing too much. But as a person new to sex, you may freeze up, and don’t know how to position your body to show less of your attractiveness.”
“That’s a bunch of cow spit! Position your body? You’re having sex not posing for GQ. If the sex is good, you’re not thinking about muscle memory or positioning your body in a good light. You just trying to eek every last ounce of an explosive orgasm,” replied Traci with a smirk. “You might forget to breathe or an expletive might escape your lips,” she continued. They both laugh, but it was forced and went on much longer than it should.
“Oh-kaaay,” smiled GG. “With that comment I believe you’re not as innocent as you seem.”
“You think I’m innocent?” This was the second time this week that someone saw her in that light. How could she change their perception? She really didn’t care how GG saw her, but Raun was another story. His body called to her private parts. Her panties always got damp hearing his rumbling deep voice. Traci wondered what it would feel like with his lips against her clit while he talked to her. Just thinking about that scenario was causing her breath to catch, and her panties to dampen. She could feel more color flooding her face.
Traci did not have a lot of sexual experience, but she definitely was not a virgin. At least her B.O.B. (battery operated boyfriend) could attest to that claim. Lately though, BOB had not been enough to get her off. She needed additional stimulation. Raun played a major role in her fantasies, while BOB did his tireless job of bringing her to mind numbing orgasms. For a piece of Raun, she would break all her rules about men and dating again.