Page 51 of Pretty Please Me
Gwen narrows her eyes skeptically. “You know, Elliot, I’m kind of chilly, actually. Do you think you could turn the fireplace up a little?”
Elliot whips around and rushes to Gwen’s side. “Are you feeling okay? You’re always so hot. Do you think you have a temp—”
Gwen rolls her eyes as she slaps Elliot’s hand away. “Just turn the fireplace up, would you? I’m pregnant, and pregnancy hormones aren’t always predictable.”
“You got it.” Elliot clicks on the fireplace, then skips off down the hall to change into her PJs.
“So, how are the sex lessons going, Mags?” I almost choke on my popcorn from Gwen’s random question.
I’m chugging a bottle of water and coughing when Elliot comes back and plops down on the floor between the sofa and coffee table. “You okay?” she asks, and I give her a thumbs up between hacks.
They wait for me to catch my breath, and Gwen finally says, “You really thought you were going to get away with some half-response earlier? I have nothing going on in my life, Maggie. I’ve been on bed rest for two weeks, and I’m starting to run out of things to think about. I need this!” she practically begs. “Please, just tell me something. No, tell me everything. I need to know all of it. Start at the beginning. I’m so bored, and this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Jack knocked me up on a deserted island, and we both almost died.”
Elliot looks between us. “Only share what you feel comfortable sharing, Mags…” She elbows Gwen, and they seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes. I wonder what they know… What has Sam told Benjamin and Jack?
I clear my throat, the blush creeping back to my cheeks. “It’s nothing, really.” A bead of sweat runs down my brow, and my upper lip is moist with perspiration. I wipe it away with the back of my hand and tug at my sweater again. “You know I haven’t exactly had the best track record with guys…”
“What do you mean track record? You never date?” Gwen asks.
I shrug. “I mean, I do go on dates sometimes. I just don’t tell you because I don’t want to be asked about it if they don’t go well…”
Elliot grabs my hand. “What? Why wouldn’t you tell us this, Maggie? We could help you, give you advice, or whatever.”
“It’s embarrassing. I feel like I’m lightyears behind both of you. The truth is all the men I’ve been with have shared the same complaint.” I look up and hold out my arms. “It’s me.”
“What do you mean it’s you?” Elliot asks.
I count off on my fingers. “I suck at sex. I’m terrible in bed, comparable to spoiled milk, a catfish, I fuck like a plank of wood or an inflatable sex doll. Oh, and one time, I actually hissed because I saw someone do it in a porno, and the guy lost his erection completely and then asked me to leave.”
“God, this is good,” Gwen says as she shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Keep going.”
“So, you approached Sam to help you get better at sex?” Elliot asks.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything.” I shake my head. “I reconnected with an old friend from high school, and… I just wanted a little help, so it didn’t happen again.”
“But you didn’t have any friends in high school…” Elliot adds.
I wince because she isn’t wrong. “I didn’t, but I wanted to. Trent was the first person to ever make me feel chosen. He asked me to a dance before I moved foster homes, and when I moved back, he’d already moved on and was dating the head cheerleader,” I explained. “I couldn’t blame him. I mean, I was gone for over two years, but I guess I never really got over him. Anyway, he reached out about our class reunion. He’s divorced now, and he asked me to go with him. I really think this could lead somewhere, and I just want to feel confident enough should the opportunity present itself.” I shrug.
Gwen narrows her eyes. “Sweetie, you know I’m all up for practicing sex, but… do you really think it’s necessary? I mean, those other guys must’ve been high off their asses to think you weren’t a good lay. I mean, look at you. You’re a total bombshell.”
“Yeah, I’d tap that,” Elliot offers awkwardly.
Gwen adjusts herself, so she’s sitting forward, a throw pillow shoved behind her back.
“So, tell us about the lessons? Have you learned anything new?”
“A few things.” I take another sip of wine and clamp my mouth shut. My cheeks are flushed now but not only from embarrassment. I’m actually starting to accumulate some boob sweat. It must be eighty degrees in here. I push the sleeves of my sweater up to my elbows and stretch my turtleneck down when I hear Gwen gasp.
“Hickey! Mag’s, you have a giant hickey on your neck! I fucking knew it!” Gwen points and shouts before tossing a handful of popcorn at my face.
I duck under my arm, so the popcorn doesn’t hit me in the eye, and before I know it, Elliot’s on top of me. We fall out of the chair as she pins me to the ground. The woman’s got the strength of a chimpanzee, and I don’t know where she keeps it.
“What the hell, Elliot!” I squeal as I squirm beneath her powerful thighs. She’s got me pinned on the floor, laid out on my side, and her thighs gripped tightly around my face.
“Sorry, Mags, but Gwen asked me to help her get a better look. Just be honest, and I won’t have to manhandle you…”
I blink my watery eyes open against the strain of Elliot’s thigh grip and see a swollen Gwen waddling toward me. “You made us do this.” She tsks as she pulls the neck of my sweater away from my skin and gasps in surprise.
