Becoming Kennedy

15- Meeting Michael

Never have I ever thought I'd be sitting here.  In my room.  By myself.  Googling 'sexual techniques'.  

I wish I didn't have to resort to this, but it's not like I have any girlfriends I can call up and be like, 'hey how do you give a good blowjob?' or 'do you know any great, orgasmic, sex positions I could try?'.  I mean, I could ask Stella, but she's still under the impression that I'm a groupie.  Plus, it's all too dangerous now with Parsley on my trail.

I return my attention back to my screen, but quickly shut it when I see yet another link to a porn site.  I can't do this.  I have to do this.

I quickly bring my screen back to life, and read a little article about boners.  I'm so glad I'm not a guy.  Penises are strange.  Who wants a lust-o-meter stuck in the middle of their body?

Finally giving up, I lie back on my bed.  I scroll through the list of contacts on my phone, and decide any of my friends from Colorado are a no-go.  I can't just call one of them and ask them weird sex questions.My thumb finally stops at 'B'.Brenna.  Maybe I can talk to her?  I feel like she'd understand.  

Gathering whatever pride I have left, I decide it's best to take a chance, and talk to Brenna.  How bad can it be?

"You want me to...what?"

I try to control the outrageous blush on my cheeks.  "You want me to tell you about sex?"  Now, coming from her mouth, it does sound ridiculous.

"No, I just need someone to help me.  Help me learn some things, so I can be good when the time comes."  Brenna laughs, her eyes practically twinkling.  I can tell she's enjoying my misery.

"I think that's a trial and error thing, Kennedy.  It's not something I can teach you."  She pauses, and her eyes scan me, as if she's trying to predict my reaction to her next sentence, "It's not something I can teach you, unless you're into girls."  I just shrug, "Well, I mean, I'd be okay with that, but I actually need more help in the..."  Oh God, is there even a non-embarrassing way to say this?

Finally, I just blurt it out.  "I need help when it comes to penises."

Brenna absolutely loses her shit.  I mean, full on, ugly laughing.  Red faced, teary eyes, and even a few snorts.

"Oh Kennedy, if you need help with that, you're going to need to talk to someone with a penis."  Her facial expressions make me want to run into a brick wall.  

"Honestly, I'm honored that you came to me to talk about this.  I really wish I could help you."  Her face softens a bit, and she rests her hand on my leg, "I really think that you shouldn't worry about it though.  Once you find someone that you trust enough to have sex with, it shouldn't matter if you're good or not."  She leans back, and any trace of seriousness is gone, her tone teasing,  "Plus, I thought you were a groupie."

I examine her features, trying to gauge her reaction before saying, "No, but that's between you and me."  Brenna holds her hands up, and smiles warmly, "No worries, Kennedy.  I've got your back."

Other than the embarrassing sex conversation, I had a really great time with Brenna.  She seems so open.  So honest.  I know I'm such a hypocrite, but it's refreshing to be around someone who's not tangled up in a thousand lies.  Someone who's not going to stab you in the back.

As I drive back to my house, I find my mind wandering to that night on the hill with Luke.  My hand involuntarily reaches up, and feels the spot on my neck where he had left his hickeys.  I remember it like it was yesterday.

"Why couldn't you be the one with hickeys?""Because I don't like hickeys."

God, how I'd love to give him some.  I feel my face flush as thoughts of tasting his skin race through my head.  I'm so lame.  And sexually frustrated.