Smitten

Colin and I confirm we’re game. And, suddenly, out of nowhere, I’ve got a date when I’ll get to see my woman—assuming she’s available to come to New York on the night of the concert.

Dax says. “Why don’t we plan to play that concert and then take a full week off afterward? It’ll put us behind the eight ball a bit on finishing the album in time, but I’m willing to put in extra-long days after that, if you guys are. This way, Fish can spend time with his woman. I can take the fam on a little tropical vacay. And Colin can . . . whatever.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna get to see her,” I say, more to myself than anyone else. “God, I hope she can make it.”

Dax says to Colin, “Will your billboard be up in Times Square by then?”

“It should be.”

Keane asks, “What billboard?” And just like that, the conversation shifts to Colin’s underwear campaign, which, of course, elicits raucous conversation and commentary. But, quickly, my mind drifts again. Alessandra. I’m going to see her again!

Out of nowhere, a weird cocktail of excitement and anxiety floods me. Obviously, I’m dying to get physical with Alessandra when/if I get to see her in New York. I don’t know, for sure, if Alessandra will want to have sex with me there, or at some future time, but what if she does? And what if she wants to do it in New York? I’ve never been with a virgin before. I wonder if there’s something specific I should know to make it extra special for her?

My gaze drifts across the faces in the group, and I suddenly realize, in aggregate, these men have ten lifetimes’ more sexual experience than me. So, I decide not to miss out on a golden opportunity.

“Hey, guys, can I ask you for some confidential advice?” I glance toward the women on the far side of the party, making sure they can’t overhear me. “If I get to see Alessandra in New York, I don’t know how physical our relationship will become. We haven’t even kissed yet—it’s a long story. So, I’m not sure exactly what might happen. I mean, we’re going to kiss. Obviously. But beyond that—”

“She’s a virgin and you’re asking for advice?” Keane says.

“Shhh! Peenie. Jesus.”

“Just trying to help. Isn’t that what you’re so artfully getting at?”

I exhale. “Yes. I’m not assuming anything, mind you. I just . . . don’t want to blow it for her if it turns out things go that direction.”

Colby, our calm and quiet Master Yoda, says, “How old is she, Fish?”

“Nineteen. Turning twenty in two months. She said she’s been waiting for the right guy. Someone she really trusts. She didn’t say that guy was going to be me, mind you, but she kind of implied I might be on her short list. So . . .”

Colby looks down at his sleeping daughter in his arms. “My best advice? Don’t pressure her. Ever.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s a given. I’d never do that. But, I mean, I think it’s fair to say she’s thinking about doing this with me, without me pressuring her. And, you know, that’d be great with me. But, like I said, I’d want to give her the best possible experience . . .”

“Just watch all my early ‘Ball Peen Hammer’ videos,” Keane says. “Those will tell you everything you need to know about ringing the bell.”

He’s talking about the YouTube series he stars in, that’s shot by his wife, Maddy. In recent years, their show has become about their relationship and adventures as a couple. But in the beginning, Keane—as his alter ego, “Ball Peen Hammer”—talked about women and sex and the best techniques for making women reach orgasm on command.

“I’ve got some advice,” Zander says. “Whatever you do, don’t turn into the Flash on her in The Big Moment. My very first time, she was a virgin, too, and I was so damned excited, I lost it within seconds of going in. I’ll never forget that poor girl furrowing her brow and saying, ‘Is that it? Did we do it?’”

Everyone grimaces and laughs, including me.

“Just to be sure you last, you should beat off a few hours beforehand,” Keane declares.

“Man, I wish I’d done that,” Zander says.

“I’ve got some advice,” Ryan says. “Foreplay. Engage in lots of it with her. Like, a ridiculous amount.”

“Well, obviously.”

“No. Way, way beyond what you think is obvious,” Ryan replies. “With anyone, but especially a virgin.”

“Maybe try hitting her with The Sure Thing, as foreplay?” Keane says.

Everyone in the group, other than me, tells Keane that’s the stupidest idea they’ve ever heard and he needs to shut the fuck up.

“She needs to get her sea legs first, before you hit her with that, Fish,” Ryan says. “You know that, right?”