How to get him to fall in love | ✔

Chapter Two

I walk out of my mom's house not only having exchanged my personal details, but also agreeing to meet up with her next week. I hate myself for agreeing, I did want to make it as hard for her as possible, I went in there hoping that I could treat my meeting her today like my own sort of revenge. The specific kind of revenge where I made it hard for her without making it look like I was trying to. so that she thought it was her that it was all in her head, and that she'd go insane thinking about it for the rest of her life, just like I had to

God no wonder I was advised to go for therapy

The meeting had not gone the way I had hoped, and by that I meant that I hoped it wouldn't bother me enough that I wanted to revisit the events and think it over again. I also knew that when I'd rehash this all with my best friend tonight, after she got off her shift, I'd tell her that I don't know what came over me, why I agreed to it, and Fran would groan because she'd obviously hate my mother because of the picture I'd been painting for her about Jillian for the past few years. So despite the lies I was predicting telling my best friend, deep down I knew exactly why I agreed to meet her again, I'd just never say the real reason out loud because it's so pitiful that the thought of it even having come from my mind makes me cringe

That even now, after all this time I was still seeking my mother's love and approval, and no matter how many years I fear would pass, I was still competing with my dead twin sister

It's strange, that I was raised by two loving people; Tessa and Greg, whom have given me more love than anyone could ask for, I don't have daddy issues in the sense that I seek out love from men, I refuse to believe that I have mommy issues especially when I have a loving mother like Tessa, I have never been deprived of love, yet I crave it like I have never had it. Maybe it's not the love I crave, but that intimacy of being loved. Risk sounding so shallow right now but I think, it's all I've ever wanted.

At 7 years old I fell in love with a ten year old boy, I'd see him pine after 13 year old girls and I couldn't wait to be 13, in hopes that I'd be the main attraction for all the boys in the age range of; 10 to 13. 13 came around, no boys paid me a second glance, I blamed it on my lack of boobs, I was never gifted in that department. And all of a sudden the 13 year old boys seemed like children, and 16 year old boys had new voices and body hair. 16 I thought I would definitely have a boyfriend

What a joke, here I am at twenty two, practically shy of 23 and I have never had a boyfriend in my entire life. It's not that I don't want one, I'm just unsure of how people acquire boyfriends, acquire men to be attracted and committed to them

I lock the front and back door to my flat whom I share with my friend Fran, she's a dentistry student and interns in her free time, and on the weekends she's at her boyfriends as his place is far nicer than ours but she refuses to move in with him, because she's not ready for that 'commitment'

I basically live alone

I pull out my laptop, and heat up some Thai leftovers from the previous night; I check my phone, one message from my biological mother

This is my number, messaging you so that you can save it

I don't respond to the message and pull out my laptop to check my emails. After going through at least 20 different emails from the university where I lecture at; Different students giving me their 'valid reasons' as to why they couldn't hand in their term papers. I'm a junior lecturer, still studying myself, majoring in sociology but sometimes I swear it feels like I do just as much work as actual lecturers.

I call it a night and switch on the television, it's my typical Saturday night, I could go out with friends, but I'm not up for socializing, I take a bowl of popcorn with me to the sofa

Fifteen minutes in, and I give up, my mind circling back to all the day's events, I should phone my mom. I make a mental note to phone her tomorrow. I lay my head back on the sofa and take a deep breath; in through the nose, out through the mouth. - Another tip from my therapist

I've been told; ''you have your head screwed right on'' and ''kid, you're on your way'' I don't agree with these statements fully, but i know that I know what I want, and want it badly enough that I'd go to impossible lengths to reach it, but I also have accepted the fact that if it doesn't work out, that would be okay too, I will adapt, always have. I have parents who love me, I've healed – mostly, I like my life, I like studying, I'm a sociology major in my final year, I like lecturing, it covers the bills, I have no student debt thanks to a full ride, I should be happy right? Others have it worse

But I'm not, I'm miserable

And occasionally really fucking horny

And for someone so miserably single, I am so god damn horny most of the times, that if Fran didn't basically live with Justin, I'd have probably moved out just so that I could touch myself whenever, because I do it a lot.

Sure my hand is great conductor of pleasure and the only conductor of any sexual pleasure in my life as I'm too shy to buy a vibrator. I like the relief I feel after my hands have done their work and my legs shake, buckle and then release. I like imagining a man doing what he wants with me, taking me in every position and making me scream. The man in my fantasies is usually faceless, as I can't imagine anyone actually doing the things he does to me, but this faceless man gets me wet every night, morning, afternoon and whatever else in-between

Now should also probably be a good time to mention that I'm also a virgin. A horny virgin, how ironic.

Some would say that technically I'm not a virgin if I touch myself, and if you want to be technical, I would tell you that for me what makes someone not a virgin anymore is; penetration. I haven't even put a tampon in, let alone a finger. I know what my body likes; know the area underneath the arch that likes to be touched; I like the friction of riding a pillow, even the little piece of skin that I like to tug at and pinch gently down there that has me tingling right down to my toes

I don't think there should be any shame in saying that I want sex, but I also have standards, they might be bad but I clearly must have some sort of standards as that's the only rational explanation as to why I have never had a boyfriend

The TV show is not doing it for me; I switch it off, return the now empty bowl to the sink and wash the bowl out and then dry my hands

I should probably go to bed; I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I make it about 4 steps out of the kitchen into the direction of my bedroom when I decide differently

I pull off my jeans, keeping on my panties and climb on the arm of the sofa, the feeling against my sex already making me exited; I start moving backwards and forwards, riding the sofa slowly

I reach my hand down to help myself

Not quite wet

I play with the skin, tugging and pinching while riding, I imagine what it's like to have a man's tongue swirl over that piece of flesh, have him hold my legs down while he works wonders with his tongue

What would his tongue feel like?

I pick up the speed

The reason why I have never considered the possibility of any penetration, is because I want the first penetration I experience down there to be because of a man, call it the Christian in me or whatever, but I'd hoped that the person I'd give my virginity to would be my husband

So I imagine my future husband, inserting his fingers inside me, I try to imagine what it would feel like despite having no experience, imagine that I'd enjoy it

I'm sure Kate wouldn't have to be imagining someone do this to her, or have to ride couches and pillows to release the frustration, she'd probably have had a boyfriend, or many. Kate wouldn't be a virgin at twenty two. Kate wouldn't be alone at home on a Saturday night imagining riding a man's face; she'd probably be doing it, or alternatively riding his.....