Page 1 of Her First Time
Chapter1
Dakota
Ijust discoveredthat honesty is not the best policy. No, the truth can get you in a shitload of trouble if said honesty is shared with the wrong people, in the wrong place, and at the wrong time. Like five minutes ago, when I wrote the number ‘0’ on that bright pink sticky note. I should have left the piece of paper blank, or declined to participate, or even better, I could have just written thenumber‘1’.
How bad would a white lie have been at a time like this,anyway?
I’m at a half-empty strip club on ladies’ night, forChrist’ssake.
Four days beforeChristmas.
This should be a safe place to tell the truth, but I realize now that I’ve baited myself, and lying was realistically the best option. I’m surrounded by nine women who are all here in celebration for the bachelorette party I organized for my sister, Dina, before she gets married on Christmas Day, no less. For as long as I can remember, Dina has dreamed of a Christmas wedding. She wants everything white, snowy and sparkly, and that is whatshe’llget.
Tonight though, is all about getting a little wild and a bit dirty. We’ve been throwing back shots, dancing, and ogling the male strippers on the main stage of the Blue Bayoustripclub.
We’ve also been playing party games. They were fun right up until ten minutes ago when I passed the reins to Veronica, the resident hot blonde girl with big blue eyes, a healthy helping of boobs and long legs, who can pretty much get any man she wants anywhere she goes. She decides that we need to play a weird version ofHave I Ever. Except in Veronica’s game, the rules are different. All ten of us have to play at the same time, by writing down our honest answer to one question and placing the handwritten responses in Dina’s cock-shaped party hat. The question is, how many times have we each had an orgasm as a result of a man’s mouth traveling south. My sister, as guest of honor, gets to pull each response from the hat, and she has to guess who wrote eachanswer.
Shit.
I should have written the number ‘1’, because it’s not just the case that I’ve never had an orgasm from below-the-beltaction.
I’ve never had anorgasm.
Ever.
What’s worse is that my sister hones in on my answer like a dog with a bone. She is close enough to everyone to guess every answer correctly. My ‘0’ is her last guess, which isn’t really a guess, due to the obvious process of elimination. I have a perfectly good reason for my answer, and I’m dumb enough to explain it to Dina and her friends, thanks to all the shots I’ve already had. It’s because I happen to be a twenty-one-year-old virgin who has never ever messed around with a guy. I’ve kept that secret so close to my chest that even Dina didn’t know before tonight. It’s not that I’ve been going around telling people that I’m sexually active, but there’s a finality about sharing the harsh truth inside a strip club around the holidays. In this particular setting, people can’t help but want to do something about it, as though deflowering me would make for aspecialgift.
It irks me that Dina doesn’t flinch for Shelley’s ‘15’ or Veronica’s ‘too many to count’ answers. She has nothing to say for Melanie, who wrote ‘3, but 2 of those times were when my boyfriend used a vibrator’. Sure, those replies attract their fair share of chuckles, but my ‘0’ seems to evoke a silent confusion, followed by a rallying cry among our mostly inebriated group, one that screams ‘get Dakota to sit on a guy’s face before the nightisover’.
“We’re serious,” Dina says to reiterate the comments by her excited mob clan of friends. “You can’t afford to let another day go by without finding out the joys of lip service betweenyourlegs.”
“Time to make your girly bits sing!” Shelley shouts, and I’m grateful the music in here is turnedwayup.
“Not gonna happen,” I say, shaking my head. “Not here, not now, notlikethis.”
I point to the stage, hoping they’ll turn their attention back to the firefighter stripper act. The ripped blond guy with the Santa hat has just thrown down his yellow fireman’s turnout jacket. He’s swinging his red suspenders around to get the women excited for the grand finale of dragging hispantsoff.
Leave it to Veronica to make my life more difficult at a time when I can be enjoying the show inpeace.
“How about this, Dakota? The next guy that walks into this club gets to do you thehonor.”
“Aww, hell no,”Isay.
“How about, next cute guy who’swilling?”
“Do I look desperatetoyou?”
She studies me for a moment. “No, you don’t, but that’s the problem. If you knew what you were missing, youwouldbe desperate. Come on, I’ll even help. I nominate myself to warm them up to the idea. Think of it as myChristmasgift.”
I signal to the waitress. I need drinks for everyone around the table except for me. At the moment, I’ll do anything to get them offmyback.
“Two rounds of nine black Sambuca shots,” I tell the waitress who shows up in a skimpy green elf costume. It’s Dina’s favorite liqueur shot, so everyone at our table has beenindulging.
“Right away,” she answers and returns to the bar with a smile on her face. I make a guess that she’s happy for the big order, and probably happier that we aren’t the usual rowdy male patrons who come in here and stuff dollar-bill tips in the waistbands of her teeny tiny boy shorts asarule.
Dina turns to me. “You’ve got to do this, Dakota. I never realized you took your conservatismthisfar.”
“I’m not conservative,” I say inobjection.
