Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3

... Belinda waved me off. “It’s the virgin-factor. They only get better with experience, not age.” “You understand that I’m not sending him off to Belinda’s better-boffer boot-camp, don’t you?” I said, only half joking. “I’m taking this seriously,” she said. She sounded a little hurt that I wasn’t. “I’ve been working on a set of instructions – kind of a recipe – for girls to use on their first time.” She paused, waiting for that bit to sink in. “I want you to try it.” It felt a bit surreal having someone take such an interest in my sex life. I was feeling mixed emotions: a little bit of embarrassment, some lust from thinking about sex with Kevin, some apprehension because Belinda was almost certainly right about the disappointing sex with virgins, and finally, a sprinkling of excitement at the possibility of a fairy-tale first time. Or maybe just one that was memorable for the right reasons. Even if I didn’t use her crazy-girl Kama Sutra, it couldn’t hurt to listen, right? “Make me more coffee,” I said. “And then tell me.” ~~~ Kevin called a little after 3pm. That probably sounds desperate to normal people, but by 1:30pm I’d showered, eaten, and applied four different types of soothing balm, anti-inflammatory gel, topical steroids, and finally concealer to my chin. By 2pm I was a graduate of Belinda’s school of virtuous virgins and had begged her to get Andrew to send me Kevin’s number without telling Kevin, and saved it into my phone. By 3pm I had been staring at it for an ...

... hour and had begun silently swearing at it for refusing to ring. “Does he have your number?” Belinda asked as she walked through the lounge room, seeing me cross-legged on the couch, frowning at my phone. Shit! “Um, Belinda!” I called after her. “Could you … um …?” “I sent it thirty seconds ago!” she called from the bedroom. And then it rang. I nearly dropped the bloody thing. “Hello?” If he didn’t care about calling me less than twelve hours after he’d left, then I sure as heck didn’t care about answering on the first ring. But I wasn’t going to advertise the fact I knew it was him; a girl’s got her pride. “Jeannie? It’s Kevin,” he said tentatively. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “From last night,” he filled in the silence nervously. I almost snorted with laughter; it broke the ice for me. “Hmmm, Kevin?” I mused, using humour to cover my own trepidation. “Which one were you again?” “The geeky one with the beard,” he said, picking up on my joke straight away. “I went to a Harry Potter fan club last night,” I laughed. “You’ll have to be more specific. Were you the fat one, the smelly one, or the good kisser?” “Oh God,” he moaned good-naturedly. “The last one, I hope.” “Good,” I said primly. “The other ones were terrible kissers.” “I … um … had a really good time last night …” “Me too,” I agreed eagerly. I was smiling to myself, thinking about the previous night and all that tension, wondering what was going to happen, and then our first kiss. And then ...