SOBER IN THE CITY

Great Sexpectations

August 27th at 10:12PM by Sara [346 comments]

"Should I go with the red or the black?" I asked, holding up two sets of lingerie for Tizzie to see.

"Hmmm, tough choice," she said, scrunching up her face. "Try them on and let me see."

"Somewhere out there, Tristan's ears are burning," I said, as I tossed the black underwear onto my bed and took the red set with me into the bathroom to change.

After three more dates and over five accumulated hours of kissing and groping with Tristan, I'd decided tonight was going to be the night. The night I was finally going to get laid.

Not ever, of course—I hadn't exactly been "innocent" since the summer I turned fifteen and lost my virginity in the back of Michael Westbrook's Chevy truck while "Pour Some Sugar On Me" blared from the car speakers. But when you go nearly five months without sex, you start to feel like it's time to get your V-card renewed. And mine was definitely overdue.

"Do you have candles? Everyone looks better in the glow of candlelight. They cast shadows in all the right places..."

When I'd decided that Tristan and I were finally going to do it, it dawned on me that this would be the first time I'd ever had sex sober. Even my roll around with Michael Westbrook was proceeded by two Fuzzy Navel Boones. I'd begged Tizzie to come over and help me prep for the night, because when all was said and done, I had no idea how people did it. Sober.

"Okay, here's the red one," I said, walking out of the bathroom and standing in the middle of the room. "I like the boy shorts, cuz they hug my ass, but do you think it's too slutty?"

Tizzie surveyed the outfit and whistled. "I don't think there's such a thing as 'too slutty' when it comes to men and lingerie," she said.

"What about crotchless panties?" I asked.

"Easy access," she answered with a shrug. "Less work for them."

"Well, I'm covering up my lady parts, thank you very much," I said as I grabbed the black underwear and headed back to the bathroom.

"Did you put new sheets on your bed?" Tizzie asked.

"Washed them last night," I answered.

"And where's your computer?" she asked. I could hear her rummaging through my stuff and winced as something made a loud thud.

"On the bedside table. Why?" I asked, adjusting the straps on my bra and surveying my reflection in the mirror.

"Well, you've gotta have music ready," she said. "You know, to set the mood and everything. You don't want to have silent sex. That's the worst."

"Actually, I believe the worst would be having sex to 'The Macarena.' On repeat," I said and walked out of the bathroom again.

"Yowza! Now that's an outfit," Tizzie said, nodding encouragingly.

"You don't think it screams desperate?" I asked, unsure about the lacy black number.

"I think it screams, 'spank me, daddy, I've been a bad, bad girl,' Tizzie said, giggling.

"Tizzie! I don't want him to think I'm a freak," I said, embarrassed.

"He's not going to think you're a freak. He's not going to be thinking much of anything after he sees you in that thong, except that he's so fucking happy to finally be doing something other than dry humping your thigh."

I made a face at her and scurried over to the closet to retrieve the dress I'd picked out the night before. I slipped on the black mini dress and then looped a sparkly silver belt around my waist. I checked myself out in the mirror and was relatively happy with the results.