Page 40 of S is for SEX

REALITY GIRL I

CHAPTER FIVE

To have sex or not have sex. So far I hadn’t given it much thought, but now that I was in in the bedroom with Rhett, deciding what I was going to do wasn’t as easy as I wanted it to be.

If I had sex with Rhett, and then went on to finish the show, the risk of him losing interest in me during the remaining five months of filming was a strong possibility. There was the obvious point that I hadn’t known him for any length of time at all, and that bothered me a little.

Actually, a lot.

Furthermore, the likelihood of me later falling for one of the other men – especially after getting to know each of them intimately – existed.

If I decided to have sex with Rhett, and then again with one of the other men in the latter stages of filming, Rhett would find out about it – as would the other person – as soon as the show was aired.

My head was spinning with the possibilities of what might happen. There was no way to know what the future held, but proceeding in a manner that was going to be morally acceptable to the viewing public was important to me.

I didn’t want to be labeled a slut, skank, or a whore. Pictures of me having sex with multiple men in a short period of time being plastered on Instagram, Twitter, and every other social media platform wasn’t something I looked forward to, either.

Standing at the foot of the bed, I glanced at Rhett, hoping to come to a decision before I made a complete fool of myself. While staring blankly at him and hoping for at least a few seconds of mental clarity, he pulled his shirt over his head.

His chiseled abdomen stared back at me. After a few long seconds of gawking, my eyes shifted to his chest. Two thick slabs of flesh, perfectly proportioned and tanned, gave his torso the ‘v’ shape that all men sought but very few obtained.

With his eyes now locked on mine, he reached for his belt, unbuckled it, and pushed his shorts down along his lean, muscular thighs. As the material worked its way past the slight bulge that seemed to be causing the only obstruction, his cock sprung free.

Dear. Fucking. God.

And, just like that, my decision was made.

I was going to fuck Rhett. Or let Rhett fuck me.

Maybe a little of both.

But, my decision to fuck Rhett was made, and it was an easy one to make.

Especially with him standing before me completely naked. Hell, any single woman who was in front of a half-naked former Navy SEAL as handsome as Rhett would live in the moment and deal with the repercussions later.

For her to claim otherwise would be a complete and utter lie.

I tossed my shirt to the side, pulled my bra off with a level of expertise I had no idea I possessed, and pressed my thumbs into the waist of my shorts. While I fought to free myself of the tight cotton fabric, he began to walk toward me.

Obsessed with the girth – and length – of his dick, my eyes remained locked on his thick shaft.

With my shorts around my ankles, and my knees slightly bent, my eyes remained fixed on his swinging cock. He stopped a few feet from me and placed his hands against his waist. I tossed my shorts to the side and knelt in front of him.

Eye-to-dick with him, I struggled with what my next move should be. I reluctantly shifted my eyes upward, hoping to find the answers in his returned gaze. Instead, I looked directly into the ceiling-mounted camera above him.

The reality of it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I was preparing to have sex with someone I didn’t really know while remote cameras filmed it. Potentially, in a few short months, millions of people would watch an edited version of what happened.

It should have turned me away.

Instead, for whatever reason, it turned me on.

I’d seen episodes of MTV’s Real World, The Bachelorette, and The Bachelor. When the participants of the show hooked up, they typically hid beneath the sheets in a darkened bedroom. The infra-red cameras filmed a grainy black and white scene that left a tremendous amount to the imagination of the viewer.

But we were going to have sex in broad daylight.

“There’s a uhhm. A camera,” I stammered, pointing above him and toward the globe-shaped device in the corner of the room.

“I know,” he said flatly.

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