“So, have you?”
“Have I what?” Carol tucked her long, brown hair behind her ears.
Alice just grinned. It took Carol some time to notice Alice’s smirk.
“Alice!” Carol looked shocked.
“Well?”
“Yes.” Carol blushed.
Alice froze. She couldn’t believe her ears. “You have?”
“Of course. Haven’t you?”
Alice let her gaze fall on the history book beside her and scratched an itch at her neck.
“You haven’t?!”
“Shh!” Alice glanced around. But there was no reason to fear someone overhearing. “It’s not like I haven’t tried.”
“I know.”
Alice scowled. “What do you mean, ‘you know’?”
“Last night, as I passed your room, I heard panting.”
“You heard me?”
“Loud and clear.”
Alice caught herself from showing any signs that would admit something happened. She slowly leaned back against the tree and said, “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just finished running in circles around the room, or maybe I had insomnia and was trying to force myself to pass out by hyperventilating.”
Carol laughed. “I cracked open the door and saw you standing at the window with your nightgown hiked up, stuffing the handle of your hairbrush-”
“Okay! Okay! Geez!” Alice felt her ears grow hot. “I didn’t know anyone was watching me.” Anyone except Jack, that is.
Carol didn’t have a clue about what really happened last night. Alice doubted Carol had ever experienced something as exciting as being watched in her life.
And yet, she said she’s been able to orgasm. Alice remembered what Jack had said in her dream. You can’t even have an orgasm. Why would any man bother with you? Why, indeed. If she couldn’t come during sex, her man might lose interest in the bedroom and, eventually, lose interest in her. Faking orgasm was always a solution, but Alice didn’t think a bedroom of lies was great for a relationship. No. If she wanted to have a satisfying relationship, be it with Jack or another hunk in her future, then knowing how to reach the big O was necessary.
“How do you do it?” Alice said aloud.
“How do I do what?” Carol reached over Alice to retrieve her history book.
“You know, reach orgasm?”
Carol laughed.
“I mean-” Alice felt her cheeks redden. “Can you do it just by touching yourself?”
“Yes,” Carol smiled like the cat that drank the cream, ate the pie, went to the pub and got smashed.
Alice couldn’t believe it. She figured that to get herself to come, she would have to wait until she actually had a real live cock thrusting in and out of her. Save that, and an orgasm would never happen. Was there actually a secret to it? The way to touch yourself? The places to touch? Some sort of proper order?
“Show me,” Alice said.
“What?” Carol sounded shocked.
Alice didn’t care. “Show me how you touch yourself to orgasm.”
“I will not!” Carol said, but she was smirking.
“Why not? You got to see me touch myself.”
Carol laughed. “Oh right. Like that’s a good reason.”
“Please! I’ve never had one. I must be doing something wrong.”
“You didn’t seem to be doing anything wrong last night. And what about this?” Carol reached over to Alice’s dress pocket, patting the book Alice kept there. “Doesn’t that saucy book of yours help?”
How did she know I’ve been reading The Story of O? Alice put her hand over the pocket, feeling the book underneath, as though covering it with her hand would somehow help hide it from Carol.
“Honestly, Alice,” Carol laughed. “If that doesn’t make you orgasm, nothing will.”
Alice didn’t say anything. She just gritted her teeth. That really hurt. As if no matter what she did, no matter how she stimulated herself, she’d never experience what normal people experienced. Just like her dream. You can’t even have an orgasm. Why would any man bother with you? Alice leaned back against the tree and bit back the tears Carol didn’t deserve to see.
“What?” Carol softened her voice. “What’s wrong?”
Alice said nothing.
“I was just kidding.”
The breeze continued to blow against them. Her vision blurred.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Carol said searching Alice’s face. “Alice?”
Alice said nothing. The wind rustled through the long grass. In the distance, the farm animals grunted, shrieked, and lowed.
“Alice, I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.”
Carol caressed Alice’s cheek, but Alice turned away. She supposed it was stupid to be upset over something as silly as not being able to come. Why was she so upset over it? But that wasn’t it. That wasn’t what upset her.
The tiny door to the truth was opening. A door that revealed how Alice was a freak.
She had to come to terms with it. Could Jack ever love a freak?
The truth sliced her heart. Jack couldn’t. No one could. That was the reality, wasn’t it?
Alice felt like the smallest, most insignificant soul on Earth. She turned her head away so Carol wouldn’t see the stinging wetness in her eyes.
“Okay.” Carol leaned back against the tree, working to get comfortable. She wagged a finger at Alice, “But don’t you tell a soul about this, or I’ll murder you!”
Alice wiped her eyes. “Forget it. Nothing can help me.”
“Alice, just shut up and watch what I do, okay?”
Alice sat unbelieving as Carol pulled up her own skirt.
“You’re really going to do it?”
“Not. A. Soul.”
“Not a soul,” Alice crossed her heart and spit on the ground. “I promise!”
Carol scooted against the tree and leaned her head back. “Okay then.” She closed her eyes and bent her knees to bring her feet closer, adjusted the hem of her dress to her waist to bare her legs. Alice watched Carol open her legs. Carol touched the inside of her thighs with one hand and stroked the outside of her panties with the other.
Alice wondered if bypassing the breasts was the trick. It didn’t make sense.
Alice looked at Carol’s face. Her eyes were still closed and she had a peaceful look about her. What was she thinking about? Was she thinking about a sordid experience she had that Alice didn’t know about? Was she thinking about a certain guy?
Carol slipped a hand down her panties, her fingers caressing beneath.
It had to be a guy. But who?
Something caught Alice’s eye. She looked up and noticed that Jack was standing at a distance, frozen in his tracks, his eyes glued to Carol’s task.
And he was hot!
He must have been working in the garden because all he wore were pants held up by suspenders. His bare chest was slick with sweat, and his muscles bulged in all their glory.
They didn’t look like the only thing bulging.
Alice knew she should jostle Carol and stop her. Alice had promised she wouldn’t tell a soul.
Carol’s breathing got heavier.
Maybe Carol would never know he watched her. It was probably better that way. It was probably better that she never know than realize she’d been caught.
Carol’s face stiffened and contorted like it was puzzling over something. Her breaths deepened and got louder.
Best not to tell her. After all, Alice wasn’t actually saying anything to anyone. She was still true to her word.
Carol’s hand flattened, her fingertips moving rapidly under her panties. Her other hand squeezed a breast, kneading it.
Alice squirmed and glanced at Jack. He kept his eyes on Carol from where he stood tall and majestic like a Greek statue.
Alice’s heart leapt. He was beautiful.
Then she turned back to Carol. Carol moaned softly.
Who was Carol thinking of that made her so excited?
Then Alice felt like an idiot. Of course it was Jack. Carol had visited Lois throughout Alice’s childhood, and Jack was the only man around. The only gorgeous man, anyway. And look at her. Look at Carol. She was prettier than Alice.
No. Not just prettier. She was beautiful. Those Caribbean-colored eyes surrounded by a shoulder-length flip of ginger hair. That petit nose barely noticeable above her princess smile, full lips revealing a brilliant set of sexy teeth.