Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
She hands us a row of condoms, says, "safe is sexy," and nods goodbye.
Tricky leads me through the foyer, into the main room. People in cocktail gear and casual outfits flirt, dance, drink, talk, kiss.
It's surprisingly sweet, but there's still a charge in the air, a suggestion of more.
"You want a drink?" Patrick nods to the bar on the left, a long cart manned by a guy in jeans and a vest.
"Absolutely," I say.
He laughs. "You're nervous?"
"Very."
"Just one?" he asks.
"Probably smart." I want two, three, four. As many as it takes to calm the nerves in my stomach. But I want to feel this too. All of it.
Patrick orders, makes small talk with the bartender. While we wait, I try to imagine a version of myself who would invite a third party to join.
I almost see it, the two of us upstairs, in a silk bed. But the other person isn't participating, exactly. They're watching.
It's really fucking hot, but it's terrifying too.
The bartender refuses a tip. Everything is paid for, apparently. Or maybe that's normal at these kinds of parties.
I know people with money, but they're all friends' parents or friends of my parents. Their adult lives are a mystery to me.
"How do you know the host?" I take my drink and follow Patrick outside.
The backyard is huge, the size of my apartment. It's not as crowded as the inside of the party, but it's not private either.
Two people in jeans admire the succulent garden. A throuple sits around the patio table, sipping cocktails, watching the action.
Two women in swim bottoms make out on a plush couch. A woman in a loose coverup sits on a lounger, her hand under the bottom of her skirt. A man and woman strip out of their casual clothes and jump into the long pool.
It's gorgeous, straight out of my dreams, long and deep enough for swimming laps or diving far beneath the surface, with a shallow end the perfect height for touching discretely below the waist.
Not that the two seem interested in discretion.
For a few minutes, they swim, laugh, splash.
Then they start kissing.
Touching.
Fucking.
"You want to keep watching?" Patrick pulls me closer.
"I'm staring, aren't I?"
"Gawking, yeah, but I don't think they mind."
The woman glances in my direction, catches me staring, shoots me a come-hither look.
"You want to sit?" he asks.
"Sitting is good."
He leads me to a pair of lounge chairs in the corner and sits across from me.
We're as secluded as we can be out here.
In view but in our own world too.
It's perfect.
I'm in the backyard of a stranger's house, twenty feet from two people having sex in a pool, and I'm in the perfect place.
What happened to my normal life?
"Is that a good blank stare or a bad blank stare?" Patrick asks.
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize. You're cute when you stare."
"Cute?"
"Sexy." He brings his drink to his lips. "Are you watching?"
"Sorta."
"You want to keep watching?"
"We can't see much from here."
He smiles. "We can move closer."
"No. This is good. This is perfect. That's what I was thinking, how odd it is I'm in the perfect place at a party that's explicitly not an orgy."
He laughs. "We can leave at any point."
"Do you want to?"
"No."
"Me neither." I take a sip. Watch the couple writhe against the wall.
Again, Patrick laughs. "If you want to watch, watch."
"Sorry. I said… I'm ignoring you."
"You're doing what I invited you here to do."
"I'm just… I've never watched anyone have sex." This is a good way to start, actually. I can only see the R-rated version of things. It's not as overwhelming as the X-rated version.
"At a party?"
"No. Well, I don't think so. Make outs, sure. Under the clothes touching, even. But never sex."
"Did you ever?" he asks.
"Huh?"
"Touch under the clothes at a party?"
"Yes," I say.
"Do you think about it when you fuck yourself?"
"Sometimes."
"Anything else like that?" he asks.
"At a pool once. Everyone had cleared out of a party. It was me and a guy I knew from swim team and we started kissing and he took off my bikini top and it was thrilling, knowing I was at someone else's house half-naked."
"You want to wear the swimsuit?"
"I am." My cheeks flush. "Under this."
"Oh yeah?"
"It felt right."
"Show me."
I slide the leather jacket off my shoulders. Then I do away with my blouse.
His eyes go to my yellow bikini top. "Fuck. Imogen."
My cheeks flush.
"Come here."
I shake my head. "That isn't how this goes."
"How does it go?"
I take another sip of my gin and tonic, let the mix of sweet and bitter center me. Then I set the drink on the concrete, stand, position myself in front of Patrick.
He looks up at me like I'm heaven-sent.
I look back at him as I undo the knot of my bikini top.
The fabric falls at my feet.
His eyes go wide. He traces a line down my body, from the top of my head to my wedge sandals.