Chapter 0004

I was in a fog of pleasure that I didn't want to emerge from. Kisses were traded back and forth, and the caresses on my bare legs moved up and down. I writhed among the white sheets, enjoying the warmth of the man on top of me. I didn't want this to ever end.

"You're beautiful, Marianne," he whispered in my ear.

"You're beautiful too," I whispered, sounding as daring as I had never been.

I bit his lip with delight, which encouraged him to go faster. The way he was moving in and out of my body made me let out so many pitiful moans I hadn't even known I could make.

"If it's too much for you, tell me..." he said, sounding restrained.

Too much for me? What was he talking about? The slight discomfort or the pinch of pain I had felt at the beginning? That was nothing compared to the pleasure that dominated me. Sex was the best thing in the world; I didn't even know why I had been so apprehensive about it.

"What if I told you it’s not enough?" I said, caressing his face. "Go faster."

And faster he went.

-

I woke up laughing and with a terrible headache, which was easily the worst one I’d ever had in my 24 years of life. My body felt heavy, and my eyelids were so tired that I didn't dare to open them. Not that I needed to, though. I shifted in bed, trying to prolong that wonderful wet dream I had just had.

"I wish it had been real," I laughed more, raising my arm above my head. "Giving my virginity to a stranger instead of Andrew. If he found out, he'd cry like a baby."

I had to stop laughing because it surprised me to be in such a good mood outside of my dream. So, I made the effort to open my eyes to see the ceiling above my bed.

"Was the ceiling of my hotel always this high? Where did that giant chandelier come from?" I asked, noticing the abnormalities.

As far as I could remember, the room I stayed in might as well be the size of a shoebox. I looked to the right and saw a luxurious-looking double French door. I looked to the left; there was a beautiful balcony overlooking a city park. Then I looked down.

I was covered by a sheet, which I lifted to see the state of my body.

Naked. I was naked.

I screamed so loud that I felt my throat burn. Then, I got out of bed wrapped in the sheet, turning my head in all directions.

"It can't be real. It couldn't be real. I didn't sleep with a stranger," I said, looking at my full-body reflection in a mirror. "You didn't sleep with a stranger. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. We agreed it was a dream, right?"

If I wanted my reflection to support me, it practically screamed the opposite. The reflective surface helped me realize that I had a hickey on my neck, and not only that, my lips were red and swollen. They got that way from kisses—many kisses at that.

What's worse were the reddish stains on the bed. I had to look closer and touch them to check what they were. It was blood. My period wasn't due to come soon, and I also couldn't ignore the discomfort between my legs. It felt weird.

I threw myself on the bed, stunned by the consequences of my three margaritas.

"I did it. I lost my virginity to a stranger," I said in disbelief.

To complete my torment, I looked at the nightstand, where there was an envelope with "For Marianne" written in beautiful handwriting. I grabbed the envelope and took out a small card with a handwritten message on it.

"That was delightful. I hope we meet again."

Further down on the card, there was a cell phone number and a postscript.

"Don't be offended by the other contents inside the envelope. It's compensation for my terrible manners."

I explored the envelope more to see what was inside and found some money there. He had left me $1,000, as if I were a prostitute, as if I had asked for it. In my anger, I threw the money on the bed and bit my nails, agonizing over what I had done.

-

I frantically pressed the buzzer at Jenna's apartment. Once was not enough. Nor two, nor three times. I pressed it five times in a row.

"Whoever is ringing my door at this hour better have a good excuse..."

Jenna's sleepy tone matched her appearance as she opened the door for me. She was wearing loose pajamas, and her hair was messy. When she saw me, she looked surprised and grabbed my arms, scared.

"What happened to you last night? Are you okay? Why are you wearing the same dress as yesterday?"

"I'm fine, I think. Are you alone? Can I come in?" I asked, exhausted.

"Of course, you can come in. This is your home, and even if I had brought someone last night, it still would be. Come in," she invited me.

I entered her studio apartment. It was small but very cozy. It reminded me of the one I had to rent when I turned eighteen and ran away from Serge's house. Mom died when I was 15, and I had to live with Serge for three years, a horrible experience. After that, I lived alone until Andrew proposed to me a few months ago. Now, I was living in a hotel.

"Do you want coffee? A pill? Or do you want to call someone?" Jenna sounded very worried.

"Do I look that bad?"

"No, it's just that last night you left without telling me where you were going. You didn't answer my messages or my calls. I was somewhat worried. Was my worry for naught?"

Explaining my whereabouts last night was a complicated task, and it was also embarrassing—very embarrassing. But I needed to do it. I took Jenna by the hand to sit with me on her sofa.

"I slept with a guy I don't know," I confessed, terrified.

Jenna's eyes widened as if they were about to pop out. She got angry immediately.

"Did he force himself on you?"

In the hour I had been awake, the rest of the night slowly resurfaced in my memory, bit by bit. I went with my attractive stranger willingly, and because of that, I ended up with him in a nearby club and ended up drinking a couple more margaritas. On the dance floor, he pressed me against his body, kissed me like an animal, and suggested we go get a room together.

With the five margaritas in me, I decided it was a good idea to go with a stranger to a place I also didn’t know. We ended up at the hotel and had sex. I knew it felt good, and I knew it gave me a lot of pleasure. But... it wasn't right for one big detail.

"He didn't force me. I did it because I wanted to," I said, embarrassed.

"If you did it because you wanted to, why are you like this? Did he not say goodbye or ask you to pay for the hotel room?"

"Neither one nor the other, I guess. He left me a number and the room was already paid for..."

Jenna didn't understand why I was suffering.

"Did he last 20 seconds? Or did he have bad breath?" she questioned.

My stranger didn't last 20 seconds; he’d lasted longer, much longer. He didn't have bad breath either. He just smelled like alcohol since he had also been drinking like me.

I shook my head.

"Then what happened?" she suddenly seemed to realize what my fear was. "Do you feel guilty for having sex so soon after your breakup with Andrew? You don't have to feel guilty. Remember what he did to you."

I shook my head harder, on the verge of tears.

"I was a virgin."

"What?" Jenna didn't understand what I was saying.

"It was my first time having sex with a man," I confessed.

My friend didn't believe me at first. On the second, she thought it over. And on the third, seeing my face wet with tears, she believed me.

"Weren't you dating Andrew for a year? How could you still be a virgin?"

"He promised he would wait for me until marriage. What's waiting a year and a few months when you truly love someone? He was the only man I had fallen ever in love with, and we were going to have a family. I didn't want him to leave me for being too easy. But I went and slept with another man the night I met him. I'm easy."

This time I burst into tears. My luck couldn't be worse at this point. Jenna hugged me tightly and stroked my back affectionately. Her hug made me feel better. It was good to have someone to cry with.

"My dear, you are not easy for having sex with a handsome guy. That's what sex is for. It was a mistake you'll learn from," she comforted me. "Did you use protection? Tell me yes, or we'll have to go to the pharmacy."

I separated from her, drying my tears. I tried to remember if there was protection, and the image of him taking off the condom to throw it away before falling asleep came to mind.

"Yes, he used a condom."

"Well... he didn't last a few seconds, he didn't have bad breath, he paid for the hotel, he used a condom, and... was it good?"

Recalling the scenes from last night, a strange sensation ran through my legs. The way he kissed me, touched me, and looked at me lustfully made me blush. Jenna held back her smile because my face said it all.

"Yes... it was good..."

"What’s with that face? Do you want to do it again? What was his name?"

I tried again to remember his name. It was on the tip of my tongue…I know he told me amid the club's music.

I managed to recall it.

"Lucius... that was the name he told me. But I don't think I'll contact him again; it was too embarrassing."

"Lucius? Doesn't ring a bell. And if you don’t want to call him, that’s fine. You'll be okay. I promise."

Jenna was right. I would be okay. I had more important things to worry about in my daily life than a stranger I would never see again.

Right?