Lexie's First Time - A Prequel to Borrowed Billionaire and Billionaire Novelist (Erotic Romance)

Description:
 Before Lexie met her billionaire, Luthor Thorne, she was once a high school virgin, desperate to be touched. Eager and curious about being with a real-life boy, as opposed to her go-to imaginary hunk Freddie Prinze Jr., she meets up with an unlikely candidate, and has a first time, of sorts. She gains confidence, but not quite all the experience she was seeking. That summer, between high school and college, she takes a job with a family friend, cleaning cabins. She finds herself growing closer to a mysterious novelist.
Length:
10,600 words, or 42 book pages long. This is a stand-alone erotic short story.
Spice Level:
Erotic, sex without a relationship. For adults, 18+ only.

Before I met the sexy billionaire Luthor Thorne, and I mean
long before
, I was just your typical shy girl who masturbated a lot.

Puberty didn't come early for me, but when it did hit, KABOOM.

In those days, my girlfriends and I would have all-girl parties and play those sleepover games—the ones where you ask a Ouija board or a Magic 8 Ball questions, like, “When will I lose my virginity?”

The Ouija board told me I'd be losing mine that summer, which was 2003.

Laura, who was my best friend back then, always asked the Ouija if this guy Lars liked her, which was ridiculous, because Lars liked everyone. He even hit on me a few times, but because Laura was crushing on Lars, I didn't jump at the opportunity to ride his pink Corvette.

We girls would stay up late at night talking about pressing teen matters, such as whether or not having anal sex took away your virginity. We concluded that giving oral sex didn't count, any more than eating a hot dog. We decided that if a guy ate you out more than two times, or you'd had anal sex at least once, you couldn't say you were a virgin without clarifying it, with the verbal equivalent of an asterisk, like so:

I'm a virgin.*

*In the sense that my vagina is a virgin.

All the talk about sex usually got me worked up, and I tried to keep my hands above the sheets, but as soon as the lights went out at the sleepovers, it was party time. As the other girls slept, I'd be rubbing out a nice, blossoming orgasm to help me get through the night peacefully.

I loved the feeling I got right after an orgasm, like I was SuperGirl, and nothing was going to get me down. Those moments offset the pain of being untouchable by boys.

Untouchable? Yes.

I wasn't one of those girls who said she was “such a loser” just because she knew a few internet memes. I had acne, crooked front teeth thanks to some overeager wisdom teeth coming in (three wisdom teeth in total, go figure), and I wore glasses before glasses were hip. My mother did the best she could for the two of us, but I had to pay for dermatologist visits out of my own pocket, and my pocket was tiny.

Because the town in Ohio that I grew up in was so small, everyone went to the same high school. None of the appealing guys, rich or poor or in between, showed any interest in little spot-covered Lexie Ross, and that was the extent of my possible dating pool.

Lucky for me, I had a vivid imagination. I had this recurring fantasy that was a mix of Disney's
Cinderella
and the movie
She's All That
. Who needed a real-life boyfriend when you could close your eyes and have Freddie Prinze, Jr.'s sensitive fingers down your panties? He knew how to touch that sensitive little nub of mine just right. I had some little tubes of men's cologne samples, and I'd dab a bit onto my pillow so I could smell my dream man as he gave me an expensive department-store makeover, then fingered me. Daily and nightly and ever-so-rightly.

The five of us who were all best friends had one big all-girl party not long before graduation from high school. The mood was bitter-sweet, because some of us would be heading off to college in the fall, and we all knew things would change. A few of us already had boyfriends, but we'd specifically banned them from our party.

We were at Laura's house, because her family had a huge recreation room, and her parents were so exhausted from chasing after her much-younger brother and sister that they usually crashed early and we could do whatever we wanted.

Laura was the oldest of the bunch—nineteen—but she was still in the twelfth grade because she'd repeated the eighth grade. She was as smart as anyone I knew, but her mother had gone into a terrible post-partum depression after one of the younger kids' birth, and Laura stayed home to help both her parents. She was an amazing person, and she deserved better than Lars, which was what people kept telling her, but you can't reason with a crush.

We baked some brownies to cover the smell from hot-knifing hash on the electric stove, and drank her father's Coors Light from the garage, made cold with the addition of frozen fruit chunks.

My hormones were at an all-time horny high, I think because I was due to get my period in a day or two. We talked all night about sex, including Renee's first time. The girl gave us so much good detail, I felt like they were in the room with us, him sucking her nipples and trailing his tongue down her stomach, then diving into her muffin and mowing down. Renee's face took on a rapturous expression that filled me with envy.

Oral sex confounded me. I could imagine what a boy's fingers would feel like, because I also had fingers, but lips and a tongue? Would you feel the teeth? Would you feel like you were literally being eaten?

As a party with booze and drugs usually does, this one escalated, and we found ourselves in Laura's bathroom, daring each other to do bikini waxing. Laura had tons of waxing supplies, and at first we were shy and reserved, pulling our panties into the middle to access the sides of our bikini zones, but as more and more hair came away, the panties came right off.

After seeing so much airbrushed porn, was it ever a relief to see other girls' real-life labia. There were dangly ones and chubby ones and uneven ones and even color variation. We giggled, compared, and were supportive of each other in a way that would have made Oprah proud.

Our giggle session was punctuated by shrieks as we ripped off hair that had never been waxed before.

I ended up going the furthest of the girls, waxing every last kinky hair, including the ones around my butt, “just to be thorough.”

Renee gave me an admiring look. “You're going to get so much oral,” she said. “Wait 'til the guys find out.”

We were all so busy giggling and using damp wash cloths to remove the remainder of the sticky wax, we didn't notice Renee sneaking off to make a phone call.

After there was nothing left to wax, we returned to the rec room in our pajamas. We were trying to decide what movie to watch, and I got a phone call, which struck me as odd, since everyone I knew was in the room with me. I ignored the call and let it go to voicemail. It's funny nowadays, with all the text messaging and people sending photos, but this was
just long enough ago
, and I'm just old enough, that we weren't yet sending texts with our phones. We weren't even using Facebook yet! If I'd been born a few years later, I could have been ignored by hotties in so many more technology-driven ways.

When my phone rang the second time, everyone stopped talking and told me to answer it.

Renee had such a weird look on her face, I figured she was playing a joke on me.

I answered the phone, and the male voice on the other line said, “I hear you waxed your beaver.”

“What?”

“Your beaver. Your pussy. Your… vagina.”

“Who is this?”

“Lars. Come and meet me. I'm at the playground, by the swings.”

I looked around at my girlfriends. Laura had a crush on Lars, and they were always talking at school. They'd made out a few times, but they weren't officially together.

Lars was popular with the guys, but just skeevy enough that he didn't get my panties wet. Until that night. When I heard his growling voice on the phone.

My pulse raced with excitement. Oh, my body certainly wanted to meet him by the swings and let him touch my smooth pussy, but I didn't want to betray my friend, so I said no and hung up.

Laura narrowed her eyes at me. “That was Lars, wasn't it?”

“I'm sorry, Laura. I don't know how he got my number. He wanted me to go meet him at the playground, but I'm not going. Obviously.”

She downed her glass of beer and popped the chunks of semi-thawed fruit into her mouth.

“You should go,” she said. “I'm not getting anywhere with him. Maybe if he hooks up with you, he'll get this whole player thing out of his system.”

The other three girls were quiet, eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. Renee had a guilty look, but I couldn't figure out at the time what she was up to.

“I won't go,” I said, even as my pussy tingled with excitement. Lars was a jerk, but he was a good-looking jerk. He wasn't dissimilar to Freddie Prinze Jr. if you squinted. His skin was more of a cocoa brown, compared to Freddie's, but he did have thick eyebrows and gorgeous, dark eyes. One of his front teeth overlapped the others, like a vampire tooth, giving him a predatory look.

“Go and be mean to him,” Laura said.

Renee whistled. “That is a perfect idea. Make him give you an orgasm, and then don't do anything for him. Give him blue balls.”

Squirming in my seat at the end of Laura's couch, I said, “I can't go. I'm in my pajamas.”

I had on loose, drawstring flannel bottoms and a thin white tank top over black bra and panties.

“Just go,” Laura said, her lips twisting up in a devious grin. “And don't forget to give him blue balls.”

I resisted the girls, but I didn't try
that
hard. Lars was perfect for a hook-up, because I didn't have feelings for him, so he couldn't jerk me around.

A few minutes later, I had my shoes on, and I was sneaking out the back patio door, then jogging down the street to meet a boy in the park. I phoned to tell him I was on my way, and we were still talking on the phone when I spotted him in the park, on the merry-go-round.

“You look cute,” he said, and I thanked the moonlight for that.

“You're not going to bite me with your vampire tooth, are you?”

“Maybe. Let me see something.” He gently removed my glasses and pulled away the tie holding my hair back. “Damn. You look good, girl. Why don't you wear your hair down?”

I shrugged.

“Wear it down, Lexie.”

“Fine. I guess I will from now on.”

The park was completely empty, the whole town seemingly asleep. I stepped onto the merry-go-round next to him and gave it a push to start revolving. The well-oiled equipment didn't even squeak.

Lars put my glasses in his back pocket, then pulled me into him and kissed me, right on the lips, no warning whatsoever.

His mouth tasted like he'd just eaten Caesar salad, but after a moment, it wasn't so bad. His tongue felt nice on my lips, and the stubble around his mouth felt like sandpaper. I'd read about “tickling whiskers,” in books, but there was nothing ticklish about it.