No. That was impossible. She was almost twenty-six years old. She couldn’t be a virgin. She’d gone to college and lived in dorms. She’d had boyfriends. We’d talked about them.
I was so wrapped up thinking about what she’d just said that I didn’t realize she’d managed to get herself stuck in her dress until she called out, “Help!”
It was only then that I saw her dress pulled up past her waist and chest and was stuck at her shoulders. Her hands were sticking straight up and the material was wrapped around her tightly. She was flailing back and forth on her mattress.
I did my best to keep my eyes on the task at hand and not pay any attention to the fact that she was wearing a sexy lace bra and panty set.
“Hold still,” I instructed as I worked to free her from the tangled mess that she’d managed to get herself in.
It took more than one try before I was able to locate the zipper and pull it down which loosened the material enough that I was able to pull it up and off over her head. When she was free she plopped back down on her back and looked straight up at the ceiling.
“Why is the room spinning?”
“You should put one leg on the ground.” I placed the dress over a chair that sat in the corner of the room, opened the top drawer of the dresser, and pulled out the first T-shirt I found so that I could cover her up.
When I lifted it out, I saw that it was actually a T-shirt of mine. She’d borrowed my sweats and T-shirt about six months ago when she’d stopped by my house after a day at the beach, which was right across the street from my house. She’d said that she was too tired to walk home and asked if she could hang out. I’d told her I would take her home, but she’d said she wanted company and asked if she could take a shower.
Even though it was against my better judgment, I’d let her, and I’d given her clothes to change into. I’d never asked for them back because she’d mentioned that they were comfortable to sleep in and I liked the idea of her wearing my clothes to go to bed.
That night we’d watched a movie, and the next week she stopped by and brought popcorn for our “movie night”. It ended up turning into a weekly thing. On my night off, we’d watch a movie. It was my favorite night of the week.
When I walked back to the bed, I saw that she was staring at the fan spinning above. Her head was moving in a circular motion as her eyes followed the spinning blades. That’s what I was paying attention to, not the way her breasts were spilling over the cup of her bra or the outline of her hard-tipped nipple.
Eyes up, I instructed myself. Keep your eyes up.
I moved my hand beneath her upper back and lifted her up to a sitting position. “Here, let’s put this on.”
“No.” She shook her head.
Thankfully, that was the only attempt she made to stop me. I easily slid the large T-shirt over her head and threaded her arms through it before tugging it down to her waist. Once she was covered up, I lowered her back down onto the bed but when I started to stand back up straight, her arms flew around my neck.
I tried to slip out of her hold, but she tightened her grip. “I’m a virgin and I want you to be my first.”
My heart slammed in my chest as my pulse raced. I ignored my body’s reaction and unhooked her arms from my neck and gently placed them at her sides.
Her heavy lids were closing as she protested, “Don’t go. We have to have sex.”
I knew that if I argued with her, it would just make it worse. “Okay, but first I have to go lock the front door.”
She sat straight up and grabbed my face. “But then you promise we can have sex when you get back?”
“Yes, I promise.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you pinky promise?”
“Yes.” I was pretty sure for it to count as an official pinky promise the promisee’s pinky had to be joined with the promiser’s, so I didn’t think this would stand up in a pinky promise court.
“Good because I don’t want to lose my virginity to anyone but you.” There was a raw earnestness in her tone and expression that had my heart breaking wide open before a wide smile spread on her face and she laid back down on the pillow. Within seconds she was snoring.
I grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it over her. Then brushed the hair that had fallen into her face off of it before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. It was the only time I’d ever kissed her and probably ever would and my lips may have lingered for a second too long before I forced myself to turn around and leave.
As I closed the door behind me, I wondered if she’d remember anything she’d said tonight. I doubted it. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to forget.
Was Cheyenne really a virgin? And if she was, had she really wanted me to be her first?
No. It had to be the alcohol talking.
Didn’t it?