Page 110 of Champagne Fizz

Except you wanted it, too,Lada points out.

Eventually, yes. But today? On the beach? In the sand?

He stopped himself.

Thank goodness! But isn’t that the point? Even Simon knows he isn’t going to have the restraint next time. The next time if I let him taste my p—I don’t even want to think the word anymore. It feels too dirty.

Pussy.Lady Lada says, loud and proud.You’re talking about me here!

My body shivers. There are so many unsavory things I’ve said to Simon, it makes me hot with shame. I was someone else, someone I don’t even recognize, someone possessed.

You didn’t feel shame when you were with him. Consider that you’re a better version of yourself when you’re together.

My body flushes at the memory of his mouth. Sweet thunderbolts of Zeus and lightning, I didn’t even know his tongue could touch parts of me like that. A single statue fed my fantasies for years, but the last few days with Simon … I’ll never be able to remove them from my subconscious. Heck, I won’t even be able to think about Superman without starting to sweat.

Duh!Lady Lada rolls her eyes.You think you can go back to your puritan lifestyle? You’ve eaten the forbidden fruit my dear—or more accurately, he did!—and now it’s time to leave Eden.

And yet … I feel like an imposter in my own sexual awakening.

At least you’re finally having one.

Was! I emphasize. Past tense. Simon left. He can’t handle it. And byit, he means me. He can’t handle me. No guy can. So it’s back to turtle necks and strait jackets in July.

Except this was different. Admit it. You finally let down your guard, and he was fantastic.

He left.

Because he couldn’t get enough of you. Not because he doesn’t want you. In fact, he wants you so much you make him feel out of control.

Exactly my point. I need someone who can be in control.

Or you could give in and the two of you can be out of control together. Isn’t that what good sex is supposed to be?

How would I know? I’ve never had it.

You’ve rounded all the bases, but one. You’re headed for a homerun.

That baseball metaphor is tired. I’m not ready.

Except, you’re both forgetting one very important thing.

And what’s that,VirginLada? You think you know all the answers, but you’re just as much of an imposter as I am.

Have you considered that everything causes you to orgasm, but there’s a lot more that you could do to make him orgasm.

Hedidorgasm in the water.

Exactly my point. And you two were fine until he and I started doing the tongue macarana—

When he lost control.

When he needed release.

I sit up and watch the night water lap against the shore. The tide moves in and out in a methodical rhythm: lulling, building, rolling. That’s how normal people work their way up to release. They do it gently over time. They savor it.

This isn’t just about you, Kendall.

Meaning?

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