Teach Me Dirty

I sighed. “You couldn’t tell anyone… I’m serious about this… it’s important.” My tummy turned over itself at the thought. “It would be really bad if you did. I’m not joking.”

“Hey!” she said. “This is me you’re talking to. Of course I wouldn’t tell anyone.” She held up her fingers in some weird gesture. “Bestie’s honour.”

I laughed. “That’s not even a thing, you just made it up.”

“So? It is now.”

“Promise,” I said.

She tutted at me. “I, Elizabeth Thomas, do solemnly declare that I shall keep this secret, on pain of death, or a lifetime without ever having anal with Scottie Davis again, so help me Lord, amen.”

I covered my face with my hands. “He kissed me.”

I heard her take a breath, and peered out through a gap in my fingers. Her mouth was open, eyebrows high. “Roberts?! What? Like for real? Tongues and shit?”

And I smiled. Even though I still felt like a scared bag of nerves, I smiled. “Tongues and shit.”

She took the bottle from my fingers and chugged some back. “You’re going to have to take this from the top. I want to know everything. Everything, Helen Palmer!”

I took it from the top.

Lizzie’s face was a picture, and I got the flutters all over again. It was real. Really real.

“So, what now?” she asked. “You must have seen him since. What did he do? What did he say?”

And my smile disappeared. “He was normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, but more normal than normal.” I recalled it in horror, the moment I set eyes on him again, after a night of tossing and turning and crying, and masturbating and chewing my nails and feeling like I was going to explode inside. “I walked into the art room, and he stared at me and I stared at him. And then he looked away.”

“He looked away? And then what?”

“And then he came over, commented on my work, and it was normal. Like so normal it was forced. Like he was trying so hard to be normal that it was weird.”

“And what did you do?”

I shrugged. “What could I do? I had to drop in some English coursework and when I walked back past the art room he was already gone.”

“That stinks.”

“Yes, it does.”

“It’s Friday tomorrow, though,” she grinned.

“So?”

“So, he can’t get away! You have art last thing, right?”

“Yeah, but… well, what am I supposed to do? If he wants to be normal, then he wants to be normal. I can’t make him like me…”

Lizzie laughed. “Oh, he likes you, Hels, don’t you worry about that. I can’t believe he actually kissed you and groped your titties, I mean I can, but… wow… that’s crazy. He seems so… in control…”

“I don’t think he wants it to happen again.” The idea hurt, the same ache I’d been having since he dropped me back in reality.

“Of course he does.” Her eyes twinkled. “He just might need come coaxing…”

“Coaxing? How the hell can I coax him?” I sighed. “He’s a man, Lizzie, a proper man, who’s so… responsible… and, right, and…”

“And totally into you.” She launched at me so quickly I squealed, and her hands were all over me, squeezing me through my blouse as she giggled. “He’ll want more of these sweet little tits, Hels, I told you they’d be more than enough for a man like Roberts.” She poked her tongue out, pretending to lick my nipples, and I felt strange and churny inside. “Did it feel good? I bet it did…”

I pushed her off me. “Yes, it felt good.”

“What were you wearing?”

I lifted the bra out of the hamper at the bottom of my bed and she pulled an expression of horror. “Oh, man. That’s like the plainest bra in the universe…”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t seem to mind.” My cheeks burned and I wished I was nearly as confident about that as I made out.

She held the bra up to her chest, and the cups were way too small. “It’s fine, it’s just… next time you should be more prepared.”

“What makes you so sure there’s going to be a next time?”

“There’s always a next time, Helen, trust me.” She discarded my bra and got to her feet, turning her attention to my chest of drawers. She rummaged through and I didn’t have the resolve to stop her.

“What are you doing?”

She held out my most flamboyant set of underwear. A lacy purple monstrosity that I never wore. “Is this the sexiest you’ve got?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really do sexy.”

“Well, Helen is about to get sexy,” she laughed. She put her arms through the bra straps and did a twirl, pouting and fluttering her eyelashes and looking so silly I snort-laughed. Maybe it was the wine as much as her. “Lizzie’s guide to seduction, lesson 101… are you ready?”

I fake groaned and took another swig from the bottle. “Does this seduction crap actually work?”