Page 131 of How to Win the Girl

My blue vibrator.

Yes, that’s what I need right now.

Maybe an orgasm will help me fall asleep faster; it usually does.

I roll to the edge of the bed. Pulling open the second drawer, I root around in the dark half hanging off the mattress, boobs smushed until my fingers make contact with the velvety tool.

Pressing down on the power button, it whirls to life, humming softly in my pitch-black room.

“Hello, friend.”

I’m already giddy with anticipation. Ever since I discovered masturbation, I look forward to the orgasms I’m able to give myself. Sometimes I do it while I’m in the shower—always worried that my legs are going to give out on me from trembling during an orgasm….that I’m going to slip and fall in the bathtub, and one of my roommates is going to find me ass up and naked, hand clutching the vibrator.

Can you imagine?

Speaking of falling naked on the ground and being awkwardly discovered, I remember one time many years ago when I was in high school—we were maybe thirteen at the time. Our friend Rachel was in the shower after gym class (we all had a shower afterward as a school policy although wehatedgetting naked).

Rachel had just gotten out of the shower and was dripping wet when her foot hit the tile and she slipped—falling ass-over-tea-kettle, landing on her back, sprawled naked in the locker room.

Not even a towel to cover her tatas.

We were all shocked.

Anyway.

I bought the vibrator in question at the sex toy party my roommate had. There were thirty-three women and six dudes, the largest party that the hostess had ever had, all of us in a zoom chat laughing about sex and orgasms.

I’d admitted that I’d never masturbated before and the crowd went wild.

Since I had never used a vibrator before that night, I wasn’t sure what to even do with one. But I ordered them anyway, choosing it because I like the color blue.

“It’s blue so you don’t give yourself blue balls,” Stella joked the day it arrived in the mail, watching me unbox it as if I were revealing a box of cosmetics or hard-to-find shoes. Comparing mine with hers and showing me how to change the speed.

I’d had to read the directions twice before I realized you have to hold down the power button for three entire seconds before the thing actually started buzzing.

It buzzes now, against my skin, as I lower it beneath the covers, my pajama bottom joggers long gone.

Call it premeditated plans to masturbate or call it coincidence—your choice.

Normally when I’m pleasuring myself to reach an orgasm, I’m not imagining anyone at all. I’ve had literally no one to fantasize about, not even a celebrity or an influencer, but this time, it’s Drake that I see when I move the vibrator down between my legs and adjust it, moving around until I find “the spot.”

Drake’s dark hair.

Drake’s strong muscles.

His smile.

The gap between his teeth, which I find incredibly sexy.

Not many men have them, and the sight of it has me wanting to make out with him; let him stick his tongue in my mouth, wet, hot kisses until we don’t have the energy to make out any longer.

I visualize what his dick looks like.

The smooth head of it.

How it tastes, hot and hard in my mouth.

I visualize myself down on my knees in front of him, his fingers gripping my ponytail, tugging as I suck him off, getting him as deep in my mouth as I can.

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