Diving In Page 4

  We lounge around the deck for a while before we decide to take out the jet skis. Rick has two on the yacht and they’re both covered in Louis Vuitton print, but with Rick’s initials instead of the classic “LV” pattern. Keepin’ it classy.

  James makes me put on a life vest, despite my avid protests, and he ushers me to hop on behind him.

  “Feel free to wrap your legs around me, baby,” he says with amped up sexuality when he gives me a flirty glance over his shoulder.

  “Shut up,” I giggle and squeeze him tightly when he hits the gas.

  Chad’s in front on the other jet ski with Alejandro behind him. A spontaneous race breaks out and I’m clinging to James as we glide over the water neck and neck with the guys. It’s kind of scary because I know I could totally wipe out, but it’s also really fun, because I know James will be careful with me. We finish the race, our team emerging victorious, and drive around for a little while before heading back to the boat.

  “You good, babe?” James says as he turns back to look at me.

  “Better than good,” I reply, leaning my chin up and kissing his cheek, which earns me an ear-to-ear smile from him.

  The sun starts to set and everyone’s pretty exhausted, so we say our goodbyes and James and I hop into his old Honda Civic and head back to his apartment.

  When we get to the parking lot, he darts around the car and opens the door for me, which makes me laugh at his surprise sweetness. He reaches down and holds my hand as we walk up the flight of stairs and down the hallway to his door. I feel close to him right now. It’s far greater than proximity alone. We’re connected. That surge of warmth flows through me and I put my arm around him and curl into him as he fishes for his keys and eventually unlocks the door.

  We’re both too tired to do anything, so we microwave some popcorn and opt to watch a movie. I go over to his massive shelf of DVDs—he and I are movie buffs, so we’ve both amassed a pretty sizable collection—and I brows the titles. I’m narrowing it down and trying to decide between Young Frankenstein and Blazing Saddles when an obnoxiously busy yellow and blue DVD cover catches my eye. Horny Housewives IV MILF Madness is the title. In the center is a naked, silicone-enhanced blonde woman on her knees deep throating a guy. All around the main image are smaller photos of “housewives” spread open or bent over doggy style while being penetrated by a hardbodied guy whose head is cut off from the shot. I guess disembodied torsos are ok because guys in porn are really only there to be props for the girls, at least according to what I’ve heard from James. It dawns on me, of course, that the abs and pecs of the man in the center photo look remarkably familiar. I swallow hard and I know it’s James. Should I keep looking at it or put it away as fast as I can? I can’t decide what to do.

  “You picked one out yet?” James says, approaching fast.

  I fumble with the DVD and he totally catches me.

  “Is there something else you’d like to watch?” he grins as he cranks up the sex appeal.

  “Is it weird that your face isn’t on the cover? The whole focal point is your dick,” I reply.

  “Is it weird that you could instantly identify me by seeing just my dick?” he teases. “How’d you know that was me, Lola? How could you immediately tell I was on that cover, huh?”

  “Shut up!” I whine as I blush.

  “Wanna watch it?” he says with that mischievous smile.

  “No!” I laugh loudly. “I couldn’t handle that!”

  “Wanna watch another one?” he continues, reaching over me and grabbing another video.

  This one’s even more outrageous. A pretty redhead whom I recognize from the party stands in the middle with her back facing the camera and her hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks as she peeks over her shoulder. Amber’s Anal Adventures. Seriously?

  “Dude!” I gasp, averting my eyes.

  “Or maybe this one,” he says, tossing another box at me.

  Co-ed Initiation: Sorority Orgy Volume 7. Because apparently six just wasn’t enough.

  “How many of these things do you fucking have?!” I laugh. “You’ve got, like, the porn Criterion Collection in here!”

  He snickers and then kneels down next to me, getting on my level and picking up the DVDs I’ve dropped like they were hot lava.

  My eyes scan the shelf again and I see that there are more. Lots more. They’re mixed in with regular movies, which is what really makes me laugh. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on the same shelf as Cockhungry Sluts XII and, ironically, The Girl Next Door, a film about a teenage boy who lives next door to a hot porn star whom he eventually falls in love with.

  “Let me show you one,” James says, giving me a smile that’s decidedly more sexy than before. “Come on. You’ve never seen one of my movies and you should check it out, see how I roll.”

  “I can’t watch porn with you, let alone your porn with you,” I giggle. “How am I gonna look you in the eye after I see … what’s this one … Tittyfuck Teens? Tittyfuck Teens, James? Really?!”

  He laughs hard nodding his head like he concedes that I have a point.

  “This is just … wow,” I snicker.

  “How about if we just watch, like, five minutes of one? Just enough for you to get a feel for it?” he presses.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I cackle. “You’d actually want me to see you fuck on film?”

  “Yeah, dude,” he shrugs. “You might see somethin’ you like,” he adds with a wink.

  I don’t know why—I really, truly have no idea what comes over me, but I say yes.

  He jumps up and offers me his hand, hiking me up from my seat and motioning for me to sit on the couch. He puts the DVD in and turns on the TV, joining me and resting his arm on the back of the couch around me.

  “This isn’t an anal one, is it?” I meekly ask, already preparing to cover my eyes. “I definitely can’t watch you do that.”

  “No,” he chuckles. “This is Naughty Nymphos. This one’s pretty soft, not a lot of close-ups and all pretty normal positions.”

  “So the nymphos aren’t really that naughty then, are they?” I joke.

  “We’ll see who’s cracking jokes in five minutes,” he grins at me.

  I take a deep breath and mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to see. It’s not like I’ve never seen porn—anyone with a broadband connection is bound to stumble upon some kinky shit at some point—I’ve just never seen my best friend’s porn. I’ve heard detailed accounts from James of all his sexual escapades, but I’ve never witnessed them firsthand. Ok, here we go.

  The scene opens with James and a slender brunette walking into a bedroom decorated in all white. She wears a white nightie—eerily similar to the more modest one I packed to sleep in this weekend. He’s in a white wifebeater and white drawstring pants. His skin looks smooth and tan, a deep olive shade like his Greek relatives on his mom’s side of the family. His hair is back in a ponytail and his expression, his posture, even the way he breathes just radiates sex. He came to fuck, nothing’s ever been more obvious. This is the James Laird Sex Laser Beam set to nuclear level.

  There’s no boring dialogue and he starts kissing the girl passionately, claiming her mouth with his in a way that’s both aggressive and sensual. It’s a hot kiss, I’m not going to lie. There’s a teeny tiny part of me—I mean subatomic small—that wishes he’d grab me and kiss me like that. To know that kind of passion … what a thrill!

  He takes her top off and starts feeling her up and she’s closing her eyes and moaning, that whole production. His hand slides into her white cotton panties—probably chosen to convey some type of innocence—and her moans get louder. When he slides the panties off her and lodges his face firmly between her legs, she starts bucking her hips and throwing her head back. It looks so … real.

  I can see him out of the corner of my eye. He’s looking right at me with a big smile on his face and it’s like he’s trying to read me for even the slightest micro-expression. I purpos
ely keep my face completely impassive, revealing nothing.

  The girl tugs his pants down, letting his erection spring free. Yowza! Certainly a lot bigger than I remembered it—of course, I’ve never seen it so … turgid. She starts sucking him furiously, bobbing her head, hollowing out her cheeks and using both hands to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. He runs his fingers through her hair and puts his hand on the back of her head, urging her forward and backward in quick motions.

  “Ok,” I timidly interject, “we can cut it here.”

  “Come on,” he chuckles, his smile wide and mischievously charming, “just a little bit more. Here, I’ll fast forward past the blowjob if you want.”

  “Yeah, 'cause it’s gonna get so much tamer after that?” I dryly reply.

  “Just watch a couple more minutes,” he grins, pressing his index finger to my chin and turning my head so I face the TV again.

  I cover my eyes but peek through my fingers as I continue to watch.

  After she sucks him off, he lays her down on the bed and kneels between her legs. He takes his massive cock in his hand and rubs it over her a little bit before plunging into her to the hilt. I’m not entirely unimpressed by the way he moves, more like a wave than a jackhammer. His motions are fluid and smooth and it looks like it probably feels pretty great.

  “Seen enough, cupcake?” he teases, hitting pause on a wide shot of him gripping her hips and lifting her up so he can get deeper.

  “Yes!” I giggle, refusing to look at him.

  “Anything you liked?” he says, rotating my face again and meeting my eyes. “Anything you wanna try?”

  “James!” I blush.

  “Come on, you’ve fucked around with dudes before—even though I’ve made it my fuckin’ job to try to stop you. What kind of thing do you dig?”

  “Does any of that matter?” I say, clearly dodging the question.

  “Yes,” he grins, “it matters to me. Just tell me. What kind of stuff do you like guys to do to you?”

  I sigh and lean back on the couch, my cheeks stinging with embarrassment as I attempt to scowl at him for putting me on the spot.

  “Lola, it’s me. You can tell me anything, baby,” he says warmly. “I’m just curious about it, that’s all. I know you haven’t fucked anybody, but what’s the farthest you’ve gone? You had two years of high school where I wasn’t around to protect you, what’d you let ‘em get away with?”

  I laugh lightly at that. Of course he would think about it that way. In his mind, every man on earth is waiting with bated breath for the opportunity to catch me off guard so they can nail me. Where he gets these crazy ideas, I’ll never know.

  “Come on,” he playfully pushes. “What’s the most you’ve done?”

  “Third, I guess,” I weakly answer, my voice quiet and shy.

  “Somebody went down on you?!” He asks with eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “I thought third was … touching,” I reply.

  “For you, maybe,” he shrugs and gives me a cheeky smile. “For dudes I think that falls into the second base category.”

  “Well how do you define that scale? What stands for what in your baseball analogy?” I inquire. “I’ve always learned it as French, feel, finger, fuck. What are you going on?”

  “I’ve heard that one too, but we always said finger counted for feel and that third was actually oral,” he replies.

  “Oh, ok, then second, by that scale,” I nod.

  “So, you let somebody finger you, huh?” he says with overplayed disapproval.

  “Two guys, actually,” I add with a defiant, smart-ass smirk.

  “Two?! That kills me, Lo!” He smiles, leaning his head back against the couch like he’s devastated. “You liked it so much you had to do it twice?”

  “Well, um, no, not really,” I timidly respond.

  “You didn’t like it?” he asks inquisitively.

  “No, I mean, it was cool and all, it just wasn’t anything to write home about. Nothing too special,” I answer.

  “So, I take it you didn’t come,” he says.

  “I don’t think so,” I bashfully respond.

  “Don’t think so? What do you—how could you not know?” he says with bemusement. “Unless … Lola, have you ever had an orgasm?”

  “It’s getting late and I’m tired,” I say, my cheeks flushing beet red as I stand up from the couch.

  “Hey, hey,” he says, grabbing my wrist and playfully tugging me back down. “Come on, answer my question.”

  “Does any of this matter in the grand scheme of things?” I say, still not answering. “What does it matter if I have or haven’t? That question is so not important.”

  “It’s important to me,” he says, trying to be patient and sweet as he coaxes this out of me. He pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him and he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Just tell me, hmm?”

  I take a deep breath and look down, not wanting to meet his gaze as I subtly nod my head.

  “Never?” he asks, shock still plastered across his face.

  “No,” I murmur.

  “Not even by yourself?” he continues to prod.

  “No. Jesus Christ! Why are we even talking about this?” I whine.

  “You know where you’re supposed to touch, right?” he teases.

  “I’ve taken health class, yes,” I snap, trying to keep from erupting in embarrassed giggles.

  “And you just can’t make it happen?”

  “No.”

  “Un-fuckin’-believable!” He loudly exclaims.

  “Great, now my best friend who fucks for a living gets a good laugh from the fact that I’ve never had an orgasm” I roll my eyes with a smirk as I move to get away from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he snickers, pulling me back and holding me to his lap. “I’m totally sorry. I shouldn’t laugh or anything. I’m not trying to make you feel weird about it. I just … wow! I can’t fuckin’ believe you’ve never come before! You get so turned on and it seems like it wouldn’t be that hard for you to get there.”

  As if I wasn’t pink enough, now he has to bring up my indiscreet arousal! Several months ago, James and I fooled around a little bit back at my house and he told me that my nipples were the dead giveaway for how turned on I was because they got hard really quickly. Apparently, he finds this very intriguing.

  “Ok, well that’s out there now,” I chuckle, rising to stand up.

  “Wait, Lo,” he says, reaching for my hand and gently stroking my knuckles with his thumb. “Don’t get weird about it. I just wanted to know. I’m not judging you or trying to make you feel embarrassed. If anything, I think it’s kind of cute. You’re so fuckin’ innocent and you have no idea how sexy that is to me.”

  I almost don’t know how to respond. I’m comforted by the fact that he doesn’t want me to feel shy about what I’ve just revealed. I’m simultaneously touched and annoyed that he finds this “cute” and I’m just a tad surprised that he’s described my naiveté as sexy.

  “Don’t feel bad for telling me, ok?” he softly requests. “Don’t ever feel bad for telling me any sexual stuff. I tell you everything, for fuck’s sake, so there’s nothing you could say to me that would make me look at you different. You can tell me anything, anytime, anywhere.”

  I kiss his cheek and hug him. “Thanks for not making me feel super weird about it—even if you were a total shit for laughing when you first cornered me and poked at me until I told you.”

  He wraps his arms around me lovingly and kisses the top of my head. “Hey, somebody’s gotta poke you if you ever want to come.”

  I sit up and smack him in the shoulder, which makes him laugh hard.

  We return to the task at hand and decide to watch Young Frankenstein—a regular movie, the kind that doesn’t feature gaping orifices and dildos of varying sizes. By the time it’s over, I’m feeling pretty tired, so James says I should take the first shower so I can get to bed.

  I tie my hair up in a bun, too
sleepy to wash and dry it. I lather up with soap and think about the fun day I had with James, Chad and Alejandro on the yacht. Chad said James was into me. I know it’s dumb, but it puts a smile on my face even now. James has been “into” a lot of girls—figuratively and literally—and I can’t help but feel flattered at the mere possibility that I might be one of them. He finds me attractive, that I know, but is he into me?

  When I’m all done, I slide back the shower curtain and gasp when I see him standing in the bathroom looking right at me. My hands frantically reach for a towel and I wrap it around myself as I quickly try to hide my naked body.

  “Lo, I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he says with a furrowed brow like he’s in deep concentration. “I think we should do it.”

  “Do it? Do what? Not … you can’t mean that …?” I reply, my rushed tone betraying how flustered I feel.

  “No, not that we should fuck or anything—unless you want to—but I mean that I think you should let me see if I can make you come—‘cause, baby, you know I’m the man for that job.”

  I laugh loudly and step out of the shower, tightening the towel across my chest.

  “Just let me try it, huh?” he smiles at me through the mirror as I brush my teeth. “I could knock it out in two fuckin’ flicks of my tongue.”

  “No fucking way I’m doing that!” I chuckle.

  “Why not? I’m really good at it, not to brag or anything,” he playfully boasts.

  “Nope, not happening,” I shake my head.

  I rinse my mouth and then go into the bedroom, slipping my gray, jersey knit nightie over me before pulling my towel off discretely. He follows me and watches as I slide my panties on under the shield of my nightie.

  I lift the covers and start crawling into bed when he comes over, catches my ankle and kneels off the side of the bed in front of me.

  “Lola, you gotta let me make you come tonight,” he says. “It’s gonna drive me fuckin’ insane for years if I don’t do it. I can’t know that you’re walking around never having felt that.