Not That Easy (17 page)

Lara and Emma nodded. “Definitely.”

We woke up the next morning with splitting headaches and memories of going to a bar after dinner. Lara and Emma were sitting in my bed drinking tea and nursing hangovers.

I was looking at my text conversation with Nick from last night, cringing more with every one I read. “I just get more and more incoherent. I can't spell for shit. I have no idea why he kept replying. Maybe it's an NZ thing.”

“Maybe he finds it endearing?” suggested Emma.

Lara snorted. I rolled my eyes at her. “Thanks, Lar. But you're probably right. If anything he was probably just amused at how embarrassingly drunk I was. Oh shit,” I cried suddenly. I had an email on my phone telling me that my fifty-pound spend on orgasm classes was confirmed and it was starting in two hours.

“We're such idiots,” moaned Lara, reading the email over my shoulder. “Why would we book an early orgasm class on a bloody Sunday?”

“With twenty-five pounds I seriously don't have, especially after dinner and the drinks we had in that bar.”

“Sorry about that, guys,” said Emma. “I probably shouldn't have dragged us there and used Sergio as a guilt ploy. But, in my defense, I did get those two rounds of cocktails for free when I flirted with the barman.”

I dropped my head into my hands. “My mum is going to seriously kill me if she finds out I've been spending my moussaka money on alcohol and orgasm classes. That goes against, like, everything she believes in.”

“Ah, she won't find out,” said Emma. “Besides, it was so worth it. I haven't laughed so much in ages. It was good to have an actual girls' night out without one of us going home with someone.”

“Definitely,” agreed Lara. “Anyway, El, I reckon we should shower if we want to get our twenty-five pounds' worth of this class. I think our e-tickets say it starts at twelve p.m.”

I sighed loudly and climbed out of my bed. “Fine. This had better be worth it. I expect to start orgasming the second I walk out. Hell, I want to be orgasming
during
this class.”

Emma started laughing. “I would have paid money just to see that.”

Lara looked queasy. “Just . . . go and shower, Ellie.”

“Yeah, go and shower and maybe start your orgasm practice there?” suggested Emma.

I threw a pillow at her on my way out of the door.

•   •   •

“Hi, girls, come in,” called the woman at the door of the sex shop. Lara and I nervously followed her into the hot pink room. I had a flashback of buying my first bullet vibrator here six months ago. I still hadn't progressed on to another vibrator, but I was definitely keen to—especially after seeing Nick's collection.

“Have a glass of wine,” she said, handing us some sparkly Cava. We took one each gratefully and sat down on a pair of empty chairs.
The rest were filled up with other women chatting among themselves. Everyone looked normal. I felt my shoulders relax and I began to look around the shop. There was a twenty-inch dildo right in front of me.

“How do people fit these things inside of them?” I whispered to Lara.

“They don't. They're big massaging vibrators that you can put on the external bits of your body.”

“Oh, right. How do you know?”

“Ellie, that physically could not fit into a woman's vagina. Or a man's bum hole,” she added.

“I guess. But why would you want that instead of an actual massaging tool? Anyway what's the time? I guess it's starting soon.”

On cue, a dark-haired woman in a kaftan sat down on a chair in the middle of the room. “Welcome, everyone,” she said. “Thank you so much for coming here today. My name's Veronica. Don't be nervous if you're a first-timer. This is a safe, open space and you're welcome to say whatever you want.”

I glanced nervously at Lara. There were some things I didn't even want Lara to hear. She really didn't need to know about my recurring thrush.

“So, orgasms,” continued Veronica. “We are all capable of having them, but every single person is different. You watch the movies and see women orgasming left, right and center. But that isn't real life.”

I stopped myself from crying out in agreement by nodding vigorously.

“What is real is women who find it difficult to orgasm. Women who only manage to orgasm in certain positions, places, or with certain people or even just alone. So, I'm going to help you understand your body today and give you some pointers that will hopefully get you to that special place.”

I grinned eagerly and looked at Lara. “Isn't this amazing?”

“Um, it's barely started. But yeah, it's interesting.”

“Right,” said Veronica. “First things first—how to get there. You all need to practice alone. Masturbating alone is the key to getting an orgasm with your partner, or whoever you're sleeping with. It's like anything else in life: you need to put in the groundwork to get the results. The best way to do it is either with fingers, or some of these vibrators that I'm going to pass around now. For most women, the easiest way to orgasm is through the C-spot, which, as most of you will have discovered, is the clitoris.

“But another spot is the U-spot, which is just underneath, around the urethra. All that area is sensitive and erogenous so even though you will probably only climax through the nerve endings in the clitoris, you can get those good feelings from rubbing around that general area.”

She pulled out a model vagina and began stroking the bits around the clitoris. I stared in fascination. This was so true. I had definitely felt aroused after wiping my urethra rigorously post-pee.

“But the other area is that elusive G-spot,” she said. I jerked up in my seat. Were we going to learn the ultimate secret? “It is just behind the front wall of the vagina and if you put your fingers up there you can feel it—but only when you're aroused. It feels like a small walnut when you're aroused and the more it gets rubbed, normally via penetration, the better it feels. Finally, we have the last spot.”

I looked up in surprise. I had no idea there were so many spots. “The A-spot.” Whoah—was she going to talk about bum sex?

“The A-spot is at the very inner end of the vaginal tube between the cervix and the bladder,” said Veronica. She picked up a long, thin dildo. “The best way to reach this is by depth. You need the penis, or dildo, to go right into the vagina to hit this sensitive tissue. So, that's it—the four main erogenous zones. Technically, you can all orgasm from these, but we must remember that everyone is different. Two-thirds of women have only ever orgasmed from
their clitoris so please don't feel disheartened if you can't climax from other places. It takes practice. And now for the tips.”

The rest of the class passed in a perfect haze. At one point, I lost all shame and pulled out my iPhone so I could take notes. I learned that in order to achieve an orgasm I must:

1)
Breathe deeply. Normally, I held my breath in just before an orgasm but Veronica said the best thing to do was take long, deep inhalations and exhalations throughout.

2)
Practice everything at home. I needed to buy a couple of different vibrators to try them out and explore where my G-spot and A-spot were.

3)
Try different positions. This was slightly more problematic as Nick and I didn't have any specific plans to meet up and I needed someone to try this out on.

4)
Block off my thoughts. Veronica said when my mind starts trying to panic or go over unsexy things, I should tell it to shut the fuck up.

5)
Try to feel the actual pleasure. I needed to focus on the actual physical feelings from sex and not the commentary going on in my mind.

6)
Have a fantasy or image in your head. Emma was right. I needed to work on my fantasies and learn to focus on them when my brain started trying to think about the aesthetics of my vagina.

I went up to Veronica at the end of the class to thank her for her wisdom. Lara was too preoccupied rubbing large vibrators on her arms. “They feel so good. It's like a free massage,” she said. I was more keen to put them inside me.

“Veronica, hi, I'm Ellie,” I said.

“Hi, did you enjoy the class?”

“Oh my God, it was amazing. I felt so bad because I've only ever come from clitoral stimulation on my own and I can't orgasm with a guy, but now after hearing all your tips, I can't wait to try.”

She smiled. “Hey, I'm just glad I could help. I reckon you'll get there in the end. But try not to worry about it. The more you think about it, the harder it will be. Women are so different from men when it comes to climaxing—we're so much more complicated.”

“I know, I wish we could come in three minutes flat like some of the guys I know.”

She laughed and I glowed with pleasure. I was having sex banter with an orgasm teacher in a sex shop. Could my life be any cooler?

“You should buy some vibrators before you leave,” said Veronica. “We have a twenty percent discount today for you guys. I'd recommend one of our new flexible ones. They're perfect for getting into those tricky areas. Good luck.”

She left me staring at an array of vibrators. I reached out to touch them. There was a brand-new range and they felt soft. I picked up a bright purple one. It didn't look too threatening and now that I knew how to use it, I desperately wanted it.

I grabbed one simple vibrating dildo with different speed settings, one new bullet and a tub of plain non-scented, non-heat lube for sensitive vaginas. I walked over to the counter to pay for my purchases. I could hardly believe that I had been exactly here about six months ago, nervously buying a tiny bullet. Back then, with my unbroken hymen, I had been scared to put these objects in me. I hadn't really wanted to lose my V-plates to a lump of plastic. Now, I couldn't wait to shove it inside of me.

“Whoah, are you buying all of that?” asked Lara.

“There's a twenty percent discount and I've never climaxed in front of a guy. I'm as desperate as they get and, if this is going to help me, I'm ready to pay.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I'm pretty tempted by one of those
massaging ones, but I can't think of a guy who would massage me with it. I'm starting to realize the depressing side of being totally single.”

“Why don't you just buy a normal dildo? That'll cheer you up.”

“Yeah, I could do that.” She shrugged. “But I don't know if I feel ready for it. It feels like I'm consigning myself to the single life by going out to buy myself a vibrator.”

“You're telling that to the wrong girl, Lara. I bought myself my first vibrator before I'd even broken my hymen. Look how well it has served me.”

“Erm, didn't you tell me you tried to put the bullet up your vagina and you panicked it was stuck in there?”

“For like two seconds. Anyway, I just bought a new one that is attached to a remote control via a wire, so if I feel a desire to stick it inside me, I know it won't get lost up there.”

“Um, congratulations?”

“Thank you. Now I am going to take my purchases and go home immediately to try and locate my multiple alphabet spots.”

“Is that a polite way of telling me to go home?” she asked.

“Something like that. Oh hang on, my phone's ringing. Shit, it's Nick! I didn't know he was going to call.”

“Answer it, you idiot.”

“Hi, Nick, how's it going?” I said, walking out of the shop.

“Good, thanks. How's your, uh . . .”

“Vagina?”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

“Much better, thanks. How's yours?”

“Ah you know, very vagina-like. So uh, what are you up to?”

“Um . . . just watching TV.”

“Cool. I was going to ask if you fancied going for a drink? I know it's kind of spontaneous and all, but I thought we could go to the Shard. Obviously, if you're busy it's—”

“No! I'd love to,” I cried, all thoughts of masturbating solo flying out of my head. “You'll have to excuse the fact that I look like shit though.”

“Ooh . . . you're not dressed to the nines? I think I might have to cancel.”

“Ha ha. Wait, you are kidding?”

“Yeah of course. Shall I meet you at London Bridge?”

“Cool. I'll be, like, forty-five?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

Lara walked out of the shop. “You ready to go home and play with your toys then?”

“Change of plan. I'm going for a drink with Nick. My babies will have to wait till later.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So you can ditch an orgasm for Nick and not me? I see how this is going.”

“I love you loads?”

“Damn straight. Come on, let's get out of here. The shop assistant keeps trying to make me buy leopard-print handcuffs.”

“Hey,” said Nick, before giving me a kiss on the lips. I grinned up at him. I still couldn't get over having a public display of affection with someone so hot. I hoped there were tourists watching.

“Nice to see you so spontaneously,” I said.

“I know, I figured why not have a fun Sunday instead of watching Netflix alone in bed.”

“Um, there is nothing wrong with spending your weekends alone with Netflix in bed.”

He laughed. “Oh I'm not judging—that's what I've been doing every night this week. So, shall we go in?”

“Okay, cool. I'm so excited, I can't believe this has been in London for so long and I still haven't been up the Shard.”

“Me too. So, I tried to reserve a table but you can't if you're just going for drinks. Is that okay?”

“Oh, of course,” I said, as we walked up to a glass door. “I'm not a reservey kind of person. If I tried to reserve in any of my local bars they'd probably laugh in my face. And tell me to get the fuck out.”

“Can I help you?” asked the doorman.

“Hey, mate, we're just here for a drink. Do we go straight up?” asked Nick.

“I'm sorry, sir, we're at full capacity, so unless you have a reservation, you'll have to queue.”

“What?” cried Nick. “They wouldn't let me reserve when I called.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to wait over there.” The doorman pointed to a group of well-dressed people gathered behind some large hedges. They were in some kind of pen hidden behind the strategically planted foliage.

“It's fine, don't worry,” I said, as we walked over to the line. “We'll just queue for a bit. Thank God I put on actual shoes today and not just Converse. Everyone here's so glam.”

“I know. Hey, I'm really sorry we have to wait in line. I did try and book.”

“Nick, honestly, I really don't mind. I'm very used to queuing—I'm not one of those girls that the bouncer lets in immediately. Hey, maybe we should get snacks? I see a shop over there.”

“Why not? You're gorgeous,” he said, ignoring the question I was hoping he'd say yes to.

Then I realized he'd just called me gorgeous. Not even my mum had called me gorgeous. I gaped at him.

“What are you looking at me like that for? You must know how hot you are.”

I laughed nervously. I had no idea how to react to his compliment but it was the best thing anyone had ever said to me—it even felt too special to WhatsApp to the girls. “Um, thanks.” I blushed. “But I meant bouncers don't let me in because I'm just, like, not glam. I dunno, I feel like ‘those girls' are the ones in tight Herve dresses, not Target.”

“You look ‘glam' to me. But I do love that you're not high maintenance. My ex was and it really pissed me off. She'd always
make me take her to the flashiest restaurants, and it would take her hours to get ready.”

“Sara?” I asked, remembering the naked pube-less blonde girl from his photos.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot you saw her that one time. Yeah, she was really appearance obsessed. It's nice going out with you—you don't seem that fussed about how you look.”

“Um, excuse me. Do you know how long it took me to throw together this casual chic look?” I cried in mock-annoyance.

“You told me earlier you didn't shower.”

Bugger. “Well, there you go. If you want low maintenance, here I am. I'm a pretty cheap date too.”

“Tell me about it. On our first date I only had to get you the one cocktail and you were ready to go home. I'm hoping for the same tonight.”

“Huh, on second thought, maybe I'll play at being a glam date today.” I grinned. “I mean, we are going to a fancy bar in the new highest point of Europe or whatever. I should probably have quite a few cocktails.”

He laughed. “Let's do it. We'll be the only people to get properly pissed up here. To be fair, I have saved us a bit of money already.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Most people pay to go up to the top to see the views. It's like twenty-five pounds though, so I figured we'll just go to the bar for free, and spend that on booze.”

“Oh okay, you are definitely getting me drunk now.”

•   •   •

“This is so, uh, wow,” I said. We were standing in a bar with glass walls that looked out at the whole of London. I was drinking a fourteen-pound cocktail with coconut beer in it. The waitresses
were wearing different floral dresses, depending on their exact role. It was the kind of place that most girls on dates would love.

Only I wasn't most girls; I was unimpressed.

We were on the thirtysomething floor of the building, but it didn't even feel like we were that high up. I could see the whole of the city, yeah, but you could see that in the opening credits of
EastEnders
. And everyone was so obviously rich and glamorous that I just felt massively out of place. I would have preferred to be drinking three-pound beers in a Hackney pub.

“I know it's amazing, isn't it,” said Nick. “The views are stunning. How's your drink?”

“Good, thanks. Yours?”

“Yeah, nice, thanks.”

I smiled awkwardly at him. Now that we were up here, I couldn't think of anything interesting to say and my flirtation skills were seriously drying up. But then again, he had called me gorgeous. Maybe I didn't have to be so nervous. He'd seen me curl up in pain from a burning vagina—there weren't exactly many barriers between us now. It was kind of . . . comfortable hanging out with Nick.

“So, what have you been doing today?” I asked.

“Pretty much just been lying around the house feeling sorry for myself. My classic hangover act. What about you? Anything fun?”

I couldn't exactly tell him I'd been to an orgasm class . . . “Um, same as you really. I went out with the girls last night and we accidentally got pissed so we've just been pretty bedridden today.”

“So we were both alone in our beds? Sounds like a wasted opportunity to me . . .”

“Well, there's always next weekend,” I replied. Who knew it would be so easy to have sex banter with a guy without feeling embarrassed?

He grinned. “Cheers to that. So where were you girls out on Saturday?”

“Some dodgy bar near Kings Cross. It was fun though. I think we were dancing till, like, three a.m. What about you?”

“Oh, we were out in Mayfair. Really great bar there, actually. Do you go out there much?”

“Um, not really. I have been, once, to Mahiki. Not a great night—although Lara enjoyed it. I guess we mainly go out in East London. It's a bit . . . well, cheaper. And I think I prefer the vibe. You know?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun at the place where I met you. It was the first time I'd been out round there actually.”

“Really?! Oh wait . . . I forget you're a banker. I feel like your people tend to prefer the fancier parts of London.”

He nudged my waist. “‘My people'? I feel like someone's being a bit judgmental here.”

“Hey, just speaking from personal experience,” I said, putting my hands up.

“Mm-hmm. Well, I'm not your average British banker.”

“That's very true. Bro.”

He laughed. “That's more like it. You know, I reckon you'd love New Zealand.”

“Okay, I think we might have some miscommunication issues going. I am not an outside-y kinda girl.”

“Do you mean outdoorsy?”

“See—can't even get the name right. I don't ski, snowboard, paraglide or do whatever it is you guys do there. I think I'd probably prefer Australia so I could hang out on a beach all day.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You know we have beaches in NZ? Like, really stunning ones with white sand and turquoise water.”

“Seriously?! I thought it was all Hobbit-y with lots of fields and stuff.”

“Yep, I've heard that one before. You Brits really have no clue what's going on outside of the UK, do you?”

“Hey, we're not that bad,” I protested.

“The Americans are worse, to be fair. They all think I'm from South Africa—even when I say I'm from NZ.”

I laughed. “I guess the accents are pretty similar. Anyway, shall we get more drinks? I've drained this one and it's my turn to get a round.”

“No, I'm meant to be getting you drunk, remember?”

“Yeah but I didn't mean it. Obviously I'll pay for the next round.”

“Ellie, no, it's my treat,” he said firmly. “Same again? A Ginger cocktail?”

“Okay, thanks.”

I watched him walk off to the bar. He looked so attractive, and he thought I was gorgeous. How was this happening? This was the kind of date I'd dreamed about since I hit puberty and, by some miracle, I wasn't fucking it up. Maybe we'd even see each other more, like, outside the bedroom?

Oh God. I was officially doing what Emma warned me against—fantasizing about dating the one-night stand. We were strictly casual, and that was a good thing. I didn't even want to date him anyway. He was too laid-back, and we were too different.

Besides, as much as I felt myself liking him more than I'd imagined, he wasn't what I wanted in a boyfriend. He was too flash, superficial and, well, blond. I wanted someone more like me, someone with more body hair than me, and someone I could be a hundred percent myself with. Nick was just too generic and hot. Mr. Ellie Kolstakis he was not.

•   •   •

I lay in bed panting. “That . . . was fun.”

“Give me ten minutes and maybe we can go again,” he said.

“Okay,” I breathed out.

We were lying naked on his bed post-sex. It had been the best
sex we'd had yet. Even though I still hadn't come. I didn't understand why. I'd tried doing the breathing the sex shop lady had recommended and it had helped, but just not enough. It made me feel kind of . . . sad. I'd made it into a bit of a joke for the girls, but they didn't really get it. They were both capable of orgasming on demand. I was the weird one. It wasn't fair. I wanted this, I wanted to feel like a proper woman. Instead, I just felt like a failure.

I closed my eyes and tried to make my heart slow down. Even though the sex hadn't lasted long, it had been pretty intense. I'd even found myself sinking my nails into his back when he came inside me—with a condom, naturally. It was part lust and part, well, jealousy. He got to come every single bloody time while I had to lie there just hoping it would happen the next time. It wasn't even like he'd particularly tried to make me orgasm.

Maybe every other girl he'd been with just came within seconds? Maybe I was the only one who couldn't come? God, this was so stressful. What if there was something wrong with me? What if Nick could tell? Like, he'd obviously had way more sex than me—what if I was shit in comparison?

“Did you, um, was that . . . How many people have you slept with?” I blurted out.

He turned to face me. “Hey. Where did that come from?”

“Oh, I dunno, just wondering. Not in, like, a weird way. I'm just . . . curious?”

“Huh . . . I don't know. I've never counted.”

Oh fuck. It must be hundreds if he couldn't remember. “Like, roughly?”

“Definitely less than fifty.”

“FIFTY?”

“Maybe, like forty?”

“Cool. Um, yeah.” I swallowed my saliva. This was fine. I mean, he was twenty-nine. He'd probably been having sex for like thirteen
years. If you minused a few years for relationships, that was only about four girls a year. Oh my fucking God—that meant he'd seen at least forty vaginas.

“What about you?”

“Um, what about me?”

“How many people have you slept with?”

“Oh, like, not many,” I said. “Just . . . just under double digits, I guess.”

“Less than ten? Really?”

“Yes, is that weird?”

“No, not at all. Sorry, I forget you're a few years younger than me. That's really cool. I like that you're not slutty.”

I smiled weakly. What the hell would he say if he knew the truth—that he was only number two? He'd probably be freaked out and think there was something wrong with me. Suddenly, I didn't feel like round two of sex. “Can we turn the light off? I'd better get to sleep so I can wake up for work tomorrow.”

“Or . . . fancy going down on me?”

“Seriously?”

“You're just so good at them. Please?”

I grinned. Considering the fact that my first ever attempt to give head, aged seventeen, had ended with my teeth on James Martell's penis, it felt pretty good to be complimented on my skills. Finally, here was a sex act I didn't feel at all awkward about.

Besides, who cared if Nick had slept with way more people than me? I was only twenty-two. I had, like, seven years to catch up with him. And, right now, he was the one begging me for sex.

I turned over and moved down the bed so I was face-to-face with his naked groin. Still smiling, I opened my mouth and lowered it straight down onto his very erect penis.