Chloe believed she thought of everything, having tried to
anticipate every single solitary item that might make her appear
experienced, and well, ready for tonight.
Reading countless pages on the internet about intercourse, she felt as though she had already experienced it, lacking only the the event of this evening to fully realize her maturity, not really realizing until this instant how truly naive she is about the intimate mechanics of sex.
Tucked within her quilted bag are all the things she gathered thinking they might perfect the night that has been circled on her calendar for weeks. But now as she finds herself at the precipice of merging her life with Lex Luthor's, she feels suddenly like a child shaking in the cold, beginning to fear just how it might feel to have him enter her body.
Trying to break the ice, her mind flooding with a thousand
questions like 'how do we start?' Chloe reaches down into her tote, hoping to present something to slice the uncharacteristic silence between them.
"I brought Dido."
Lex's eyes widen, disbelieving what it seems Chloe is about to pull from her bag.
"Maybe you don't need me at all," he says, his eyes sparkling with the thought of Chloe pleasuring herself, a smile creeping across his lips as he teases her.
Her cheeks pinken to the color of the blush champagne poured before her, not sure how to react to his assumption that she would require something like that.
Sure, she has let an occasional digit slip inside while
indulging in a warm bath, curious about her own anatomy, needing to know how she might feel to the one whose body first takes her.
Yes, she had discovered just how to touch herself to summon the waves of orgasm, perfecting her skills all while filling her head with images of him.
Breathlessly, she had imagined his fingers gliding over the spot at her center that yearned for him, clutching the sheets around her as she filled her mind with the sensations of being penetrated, relying purely on what she hoped her first time would be like.
But never had she considered experimenting any further.
No. Never.
Of course now she thinks it might not have been a bad idea to experiment a bit more on herself, being that now she's finding it difficult to hand over the reigns of control to someone else, most especially to one who will be in control of her body.
Yes, maybe a few inches of rubber and a lot of nerve might have done just the trick, pushing down both the literal and figurative walls that lay between she and Lex, allowing her to exhale comfortably now instead of holding her breath.
"Stop Chloe," she says to herself, trying to stop her
head from overanalyzing yet another thing. "Just feel this, just do it," she tries to quiet her mind, hoping desperately to shift her body into auto pilot.
Watching her mind work from behind her wide eyes, he senses the struggle taking place in her mind, the seldom seen sliver of fear present in the way she bites her lip.
Sliding the cd out from between her fingers, Lex sets it gently down on the ornate glass table. Picking up the remote he fills the air with soft music, hoping he can silence her mind and prove to her this night is not about fears and regrets, but about them being alone together.
"I have condoms," she says, ready to plunge into her bag again, needing to make him believe she's ready for this. Of course the second the words slip from her mouth she realizes how truly inexperienced she must seem.
"Shhhh...," he soothes, gently allowing his hands to rub her
shoulders.
Twisted into knots, his touch makes her shift uneasily, the
tension residing in her making it feel as though her flesh is being ripped from the bone. She tries to fight it, tries to look relaxed and sexy, but alas, her face cannot tell a lie, and he can read her like a book.
Displaying an amount of patience she never would have expected, Lex continues to try to calm her, making it seem as though he does not care if they ever have sex.
As he leans in to kiss her earlobe gently, he says without words that just being able to hold her is purely enough, that 'no' will always be a word he will respect when uttered from her lips.
"You okay?" he has to ask, sensing her restraint in
surrendering to his touch.
"Yes," she says answering by reflex, as though caught in an
inescapable trap. The truth is she's not sure if she's alright or not, but she does know she wants to be okay with all of this.
"We don't have-" he begins, his words clipped by the
shaking of her head.
"We do. I do," she clarifies, not relishing the feeling of
defeat, even if a part of her did just sigh a breath of relief by what he offered.
"Chloe," he says warning her with his tone, his eyes meeting
hers with a worrisome look.
Locking her small hands into his, she seems to feel all his
experience, all his knowledge flowing right into her palms. Yes, she wants to be with him. She needs to be with him. Oh to just feel an ounce of everything he is pulsing through her. Yes, she will surrender it all for just one tiny taste, come what may.
Driven by the sudden surge of passion within her, Chloe presses her toes against the floor, rising her lips to meet with his, speaking with her kiss that she's ready to make love.
"Wait," he says, teasing her lips as he speaks through their kiss. "I have something for you."
X x X x
Girls unlike Chloe know their boxes. They know their stores, and designers and fabrics. Chloe couldn't honestly care less. Tiffany blue is not a color in her palette. Dolce and Gabana might as well serve dessert. And Fendi, in her mind is doomed by default by being saddled with a name that rhymes with trendy.
But, despite her fashion deficiency, Chloe does know the type of things that came in bright pink boxes. She may not be privy to the secret, but she certainly knows that a chick named Victoria sells it.
Staring at the picture perfect present, she can't help but feel
unworthy, never in her life being spoiled with lavish gifts or
surprises. "It's almost too pretty to unwrap," she thinks to
herself, hesitating pulling the ties to the thick satin ribbon.
Suddenly that uncomfortable Sunday school talk about abstinence comes flooding back. Standing in the locked bathroom clutching the gorgeous gift from the man who soon will be her first, she can't help but see the irony.
Ms. Perkins, the plain, out of touch lady in the tacky flowered dress and snagged pantyhose said a girl's virginity is like a beautiful present. She said each girl was given only one special present to give to a special man. Once it's unwrapped, and the secret is unveiled it's over. The package can never be rewrapped. It cannot be re-given.
At the time she heard that talk all she could think was how dusty the wrapping must be on Ms. Perkins' present. But now, she's really beginning to wonder if the crazy lady had a point.
Of course, then there's that pounding in her chest that urges
her onward, needing to see just what exactly Lex picked for her to wear on this of all nights, longing to have him unwrap the present she feels she was born to give him.
Shit! she says, suddenly panic stricken as her mind races over what sort of things Lex might have picked for her to wear.
Fishnets. Crotchless. Edible.
"Dear God," she breathes, not sure she can open the box; not sure she can compete with the likes of Boobs McChesty and all his other flavors of the week.
No! She had come this far, by God she's going to make it with him, and she's going to look hot. To hell with those bimbos and their silicone parts, she's got an unwrapped present with Lex's name on it, and she's going to give it to him.
With that she pulls free the bow and lifts the lid to the top
quality gift box.
Exquisite. Rich. Perfect. And this is just the tissue.
Elegantly sealed with an rose embossed gold seal, yes, even the tissue on this gift is perfect.
How can what she has to give possibly compare?
Sliding her finger beneath the seal, she parts the delicate pink tissue revealing indeed the wrapping holds no candle to the
breathtaking gown laying inside.
"Oh my," she gasps, bringing her hand to her mouth. No fishnet. No garment made of fruit roll up. No chains, and zippers and crotch deficient undergarments. No, resting in the box is only the most exquisite gown she's ever laid eyes on; a fabric sure to be imported from some foreign city, spun to grace a flawless form and feeling as though it may have been sewn from angel's wings.
Gently lifting it free from the box, she feels her toes curls
with the thought of wearing it. The color, a beautiful candlelight white, a nod to her purity delivered with impeccable elegance, and the perfect compliment to her blushing alabaster skin.
Cradling it in her arms, relishing the luxurious feel against
her skin, her eyes widen at the sight of the tiny panties nestled in the bottom of the box.
"Oh," she stops short.
Forgetting about the gown in her grasp for a moment, she picks up the tiny gathering of threads masquerading as underwear.
Closing her eyes she tries to summon up the strength to slip on what can only be described as dental floss. Sadly though it's not meant for her mouth.
"Okay," she exhales, squaring her shoulders. Thank God she shaved.
Taking a moment to figure out just how to put on the interesting underwear, she almost chokes when she sees the crotch is only made up of a small length of pearls.
"Jesus," she says, trying to wrap her mind around the concept of her nicest piece of jewelry to date being squirreled up her alley.
Drawing in a slow breath, she slides the smooth fabric up her skin, hesitating before allowing the pearls to cradle her mound, fidgeting with them nervously as they venture between her legs. "Okay," she says as she wiggles against the sensation, not sure if she should kiss or kick the person who invented such a contraption.
"Weird. But not bad," she thinks, arching her eyebrow, amused by how a fancy piece of lingerie can instantly make you feel sexy.
Fidgeting with the satin ribbons now gracing her hips, she
realizes bows must be the theme of the evening. As she wraps the loops around her fingers, she can't deny how beautifully feminine the panties are, and how beautiful she feels just wearing them.
X x X x
Stepping out of the bathroom, Chloe tries her best to slink in the bias cut gown that hugs her form, not able to hide the peaks of her breasts that push against the softest fabric to ever grace her skin. Every step she takes summons a tiny shiver, perhaps from the pearls that seem to be riding up to just the right spot, or perhaps it's that look in Lex's eyes when they meet with hers.
Like reflex, her arms move up to cross over her chest, the
nerves within her chilling her, making her all the more aware of how exposed she has become.
There's no more hiding behind talk. No more safety to be found in the bathroom. It's just him and her now, and the time has come.
Oh God.