Lydia Netzer - How to Tell Toledo from the Night Sky

“I have to ask you something now, we never really talked about,” said Sally.

Now Bernice felt a flutter in her lungs, and the tears rolled again.

“Are you a virgin? Because, that can make it hard. I understand if you are, I mean, I think it’s totally cool, but you really should have told me.”

“I’m not,” said Bernice.

Sally was gazing down at her, seeming so kind, looking so thoughtful.

“There’s a membrane, you know, it’s—”

“I’m not a virgin!” Bernice snapped. How many fingers, how many vibrators, how many dildos ripping up through her? Not a virgin.

“Really?” said Sally, her voice changing, suddenly gossipy. “Who did you sleep with? I’m trying to think—”

“Get him back in here,” Bernice growled. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ray!” Bernice called. “We’re done talking!”

Ray came in, flicking his cigarette butt into the darkness. He pulled his jeans open again and his heavy hands pushed Bernice’s skirt up around her hips again. He kneeled over her and began to push himself around on her, grabbing his dick around its base and pushing it into the side of her thighs, first one and then the other.

Sally had moved up to a spot beside Bernice’s head and was chastely looking out the window, but she snuck a look back and said flatly, “Ray, that’s all you’ve got? Seriously?”

“Shut up,” Ray grunted. “Open up her legs. I can’t get anywhere.”

Bernice pulled her knees up and put her legs on each side of Ray’s, and he began to press his half-soft dick against her pubic hair. It was soft against soft.

“Again I say, Ray, is that it?” Sally questioned.

“I gotta see something, come on,” complained Ray. “She’s buttoned up like a nun!”

“Take your clothes off, Bernice,” Sally sighed.

Ray pulled back, and Bernice sat up to take off her scarf, her cardigan, and her turtleneck, which left some static crackles on her dreadlocks, and only her little bra around her chest.

Ray nodded appreciatively and said, “Good, that’s better. But when are you getting naked, Sally? I mean, let’s get this party started.”

Bernice glared at Sally. “What did you tell him?”

“I’m sorry!” Sally said. “I might have told him it was a twofer! I mean, I knew I wanted to stay in the room with you, right? So it’s kinda a twofer?”

Ray stood up and kicked off his jeans, pulled off his sweatshirt. His underwear sagged around his hips, and then he pulled that off, too, and was completely naked. He had a stocky body and a smooth chest, like a wrestler or a shot-putter. He pointed at Sally. “Your turn?” he said. Sally pulled off her top and dropped it on the floor.

“Sorry,” she said to Bernice. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Thanks,” said Ray sarcastically. His face was nice enough, but it was a face that kind of said, “I don’t give a shit.”

“Oooh, baby,” cooed Sally, her mouth making an oval kiss shape. “Give it to her. Give her what you’ve got.”

Sally sat back down next to Bernice and held her hand. Bernice tried to relax her legs as Ray’s hand began to probe around. She focused on the curve of Sally’s tit, the one that was nearest her. The warm roundness of it, the nipple so pale it was almost translucent. She could imagine reaching out to that perfect skin, tracing a circle around it. But when Ray reached out with his other hand to touch it, Sally slapped his hand, hard.

“No,” she said sharply. “You’re a bad man. No touching!” But it seemed to have the opposite effect that she intended.

“I’m getting somewhere, now I’m getting somewhere,” he said, letting his breath out with a groan. Bernice could feel him now pressing up against her. She closed her eyes. She tried to think of every girl she’d ever let explore down there, every set of teeth that scraped across her lips, every fingertip that went inside, every tongue like velvet. She felt Ray’s finger prying.

“Oh, come on,” said Ray, “She’s dry as a bone. Is this some kind of joke?”

“I’m OK,” said Bernice, eyes still closed. “I’m OK.” She reached her hand down to separate herself, try to make the way for him easier.

“You know what helps me sometimes,” Sally whispered to Bernice, close to her face. She realized Sally was kneeling on the ground next to the couch. “Is when Dean sucks on my breast, when he’s inside me. It’s crazy good, right?”

“OK,” said Bernice. She felt Sally’s hand unclip her bra in the center, and those feathery fingers push it to the side, slipping across her nipple. Her eyes were shut tight. She would not open them.

“Come on, Ray,” said Sally. “Do it. Here it is. Suck on her.”

Bernice felt his body move, his chest lay low against hers, the heat of him.

“I can’t, Sal. She’s too short. I can’t reach my face down to it and still keep my stick in her.”

“OK, I’ll do it,” Sally’s voice was low and determined. And then Sally’s mouth was on her breast, and the heat of it charged through her, and arced down to her crotch, and with a rush he was inside her, and as long as that mouth was attached to her, it was good. She felt him surge and pull away, and surge again, and his hand came down beside her head, and his other hand grabbed her thigh and pushed it up. The pressure on her breast and the electricity running between Sally’s mouth and Ray’s cock in her was excruciating and the tears rolled.

“Mmmm,” Sally’s mouth against her skin was vibrating. And Bernice felt her mouth buzzing and realized she was saying, “Mmm hmmm!” She let her hand stroke Sally’s hair. Ran her fingers down over Sally’s back. Now Ray had grabbed her by the hips and was going faster, and Sally pulled away to murmur, “I think I’m going to do the other one.”

Her breast, wet, was cold, and then Sally laid her own against it to put her teeth around the other, and then Ray was pressing suddenly very deep, and he said “Oh, god, yeah” because having sex with a virgin isn’t just fun because of the idea of it, or the way you enforce your will onto another person. It’s fun because that extra ring of skin feels really good. And then she was tearing, and hurting a little bit, and she thought to herself, “I really was a virgin, how funny.” But Ray had blown his wad deep inside her. And he was panting as he pulled himself away.

“You guys turned out to be hot,” he said.

Before Bernice was able to feel chilly, Sally was pulling her shirt back on. As she tossed Bernice her cardigan, she gave her a thumbs-up, like good job. Big smile. All the crooked teeth.

“Now you want a cigarette and a beer,” she said to Ray. “You can find both at Frankie’s. You should go there. And if you say a fucking word about this, I’ll tell your entire lacrosse team your dick erect is the size of a kalamata olive. And I wouldn’t even be lying too much.”

When Sally had shown him out, she came back to the room where Bernice was still lying on the fainting couch, having remembered and turned the other way around to elevate her hips.

“You did awesome,” said Sally in the doorway. “I am so proud of you. I’m sorry he was so dumb, but you know, a smart guy after that kinda lay would never let you go.”

Bernice smiled. “Never let us go,” she said.

“Ha!” Sally barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Bernice slept on the fainting couch that night, doing her best to keep her hips higher than her head. Sally slept in Bernice’s bed. There were no lucid dreams.

Sally and Bernice moved in together, to the cottage in the swamp.

Sally was blond. Blue eyes. Wide face with pink cheeks, tiny gold cross around her neck, just for style. Sally wore faded jeans and industrial-strength sandals and beads and was beautiful. She had long arms and used them for hugging people in sweet, clinical hugs, like other people shake hands. Not gushy or cloying. She was a big smiler and had a big smile with lots of teeth. She liked to eat candy.