Intro
[Warning: Long intro. Scroll down if you only want to read the story since it's different from what you think it is :3 And it's really more my normal style than most of my posts so far!
NOT PG13, maybe R.
Trigger warning: Can't spoiler it but be careful? Now scroll down past this or read from here onward :P]
So, this one has a direct tie in to an incident that occurred but I'm not completely sure whether I should explain the incident since I may decide to use it for an alternate reality moment in the future.
I'm still conflicted and since I'm writing the post, I might as well tell ya'll a brief version of it.
I took a guy to a club and we kept running into people I knew. There were a group of people who were younger than us (read: girls who weren't regulars at going out like this which is a good thing. Don't repeat my mistakes, wait till your age to do things like drink and party...who am I kidding? It's less fun when it's legal. Go, enjoy :P) but not by much. They fell over him and I basically let him fend for himself because it was hilarious. Also, if you're reading this, it's because I was hoping he'd date one of you. I feel like he desperately needs a life that isn't mostly centered around me right, now, okay? :P And if he ever finds this blog and reads it, you know it's true. Don't deny it :P
The story, yes, sorry, rambling and whatnot. I tend to get carried away...so fast forwarding, I'd like to point out that one 19 year old girl seemed really upset about being a virgin. And her drunk self was really sad and loud about it. She seems really nice, and I liked her so I'm really hoping it's not going to become more of a deeper issue than it already is, because honey, I'm going to tell you something very important and I really want you to actually hear me when I say this:
It's okay to not have sex.
It's also okay to have sex.
Don't give in to peer pressure and whatnot, just be okay with yourselves and everything else will work out fine.
The thing is, Society is a weird place. A century or longer ago, people would have gone batshit crazy if someone wasn't a virgin on their wedding night. It was a scandal that could ruin not only a girl but a family, as well!
I feel like the human race is basically like Hamlet and Shakespeare's the only guy who knew that. Ergo, the only deep meaning we're supposed to find in the play is: GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND DECIDE WHAT YOU ALL THINK IS AND ISN'T PROPER AND DON'T KEEP CHANGING THOSE RULES SO MUCH! We tend to go back and forth so much! Pfft.
Anyway, so this story is a little bit about sexuality or a lack of, a little bit of Poe, a little bit of Tarantino, and a whole lot of me ;)
Viola:
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The Story
She shivered at the thought of his hands curling around her waist, pulling her closer until she was practically attached to him. She felt tingling in places she had possibly only dreamed of before and felt slightly ashamed of herself. It's a natural thing, she whispered to herself, it happens to everyone and I'm okay with it, I really am!
She thought about how he had rested his head on her shoulder and their hands had intertwined together. She hadn't felt sparks but she did have some goosebumps, although it might have just been the chill of the air conditioner. Or maybe something else, she wouldn't have known. His big hands engulfed hers and made her feel protected and safe. Little did he know that it was probably the other way round...for a while, anyway.
She imagined pulling him close to her and kissing him savagely. She could almost feel her hands exploring his chest in an anticipatory way. She ripped open his shirt and pushed him to the bed with her suddenly strong but daintily masked hands that smelt slightly metallic right now. That was weird, why did it feel like...she shook her head again. She was back to undoing his belt and fumbled at the buttons. Jeans were such a painful piece of apparel. Why would anyone create such instruments of torture?
There was no music, only the static sound of feral anticipation and longing. This was the moment she had been waiting for. This was worth it all. She refused to let him get up as she straddled his hips and started stripping very methodically. It wouldn't do to get the clothes dirty, she knew that. he kissed every inch of her accessible skin hungrily as she sat on him, finally completely naked.
The awkward pause jerked her awake. She was in the bathroom. This wasn't her bathroom...or was it? No. No! How did she get here? What was she doing here? She felt a nice, comfortable liquid all over her. The metallic smell made her think red before she even looked. She went back into the room and stared at him with a sort of clinical detachment. The deed was done and there was nothing left for her here.
She licked him off her fingers and savoured the salty taste of it. It wasn't the taste that she enjoyed, so much as the act that had created it. She shivered once again, and whispered, "Shhh, it's over. It was fun but not for a while again, okay?"
She went back into the bathroom and chose the gray towel that smelt like he had. In the shower, she watched as all the red collected on the floor. Blood was so hard to get out of the nails, she sighed. All cleaned up, she said a mental goodbye to him and left his apartment.
A week later, at the funeral, her friends asked her what she had thought about his brutal and still unsolved murder. She said that she didn't know him very well but that it was a shame.
"But you had a crush on him, didn't you? You guys had been spending some time together recently! You must be devastated..."
"No, no," she soothed them, "I barely knew him. I'm sure he was a great guy but the most I did is kiss him. That's all, really."
The Virgin smiled to herself. She wasn't lying. All they really did is indulge in a heavy soul searching make out session.
Hey, she said to herself again, maybe too much lust killed him? Shaking her head again, she went on with her life.
-x-
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