Claire: blow jobs lead to the holiday party

A month goes by in a blur with my focus on the new job, fitness, and dating, with Ramya mentoring my progress.

I give three more blow jobs, all to different recipients. I'm still haunted from my first attempt, when Mark ejaculated in my mouth and I almost puked. I learn quickly and perform much better, and I really like it. All three men aggressively pursue me for another date and even ask for sex the same night I give head.

I start flirting with the guy at church that I really like after we realize that we work at the same company, but in different departments. This is the guy that inspired me to wait on using the dildo. He's a very handsome ex-military guy a few years older, and I'm weirdly happy I hung on to my virginity, if you even call your mentor pushing a dildo into you as "losing it."

We email back and forth after he initiated it, old school, talking about religion, politics, or anything but dating. We hang out with other singles after church, but he doesn't try to isolate me or or ask me out. Then one Sunday he's not at church. I email, don't hear back. Late in the week a reply finally comes.

"Claire, will you be at the company holiday party? I hope to see you there. Maybe we can get to know each other better while we make fun of our coworkers!"

So, it's not a date. He's not asking me out or offering to pick me up. I have no idea what to expect, I just know one thing for sure. I will be at that party!

I update Ramya. I can tell she's a little sad. It's her old company, and she's always asking about her old coworkers. I offer to take her as my plus-one. She declines, wants to keep it a clean break. She has a date that night anyway.

If he wasn't from church, I'd put out for one of those blowjob guys just to get good at sex for the guy I actually like. But church is where my virginity becomes currency. Most men would run screaming—afraid they'd have to teach me everything, terrified I'd become a stage-5 clinger the second my cherry pops: too emotional, too attached, too fast. But for him? It could be the thing that makes me stand out: the pure, untouched prize he's been waiting for, no baggage, no drama. Imagining him choosing me for that… it makes me so wet.

The day of the party comes.

It's late afternoon. Almost time for me to start getting ready.

Crossfit always makes me horny, and I still feel the effects from my morning workout. It reminds me of how far I've come improving my body. Men desire me, men want to have sex with me. It's what I tell myself, anyway. And the exercise gets blood flowing to the right areas to start thinking that way.

I'm nude in my apartment. There are several reasons for this odd behavior. I want to be more comfortable in my own skin. I like that it makes me feel horny to feel every waft of cool air or every surface on my shaved pussy as a chair or couch fabric slides across my engorged labia.

I watch TV. I might answer some emails from work even though it's a weekend. I might masturbate when the mood strikes me. Or I might just lazily stroke my clit with no objective, just passing the time like a dude with a hand down his pants.

I hear someone outside my apartment door. A rustling of feet, and something is dropped. Then the person walks away. That usually means a delivery from Amazon.

Crazy that my heart rate increases. Could it be what I am expecting? The tracker said it wouldn't be delivered until tonight while I am at the party. I open the door and bring in the small package, and I make sure to lock the door behind me. I open it, and sure enough, it's very good news. My vaginal dilator set has arrived.

I can take my time and masturbate and push my boundaries. Orgasms now, party later. For now, the party is here in my horny pussy!