Sarah leaned towards us from across the booth, yelling to be heard over the loud country music and the raucous crowd. “What? You’ve never had an orgasm?” Cursing myself for letting the words escape my lips, I felt a rush of heat flushing my face. Damn! Only two drinks in and I was already getting tipsy.
“Shhh!” I quickly glanced around the bar, making sure no one had overheard. After a moment of anxiety, we all broke out into giggles. “I didn’t say I never had an orgasm. I’ve had plenty. I just have to take care of business myself.”
Jenna turned toward me with eyebrows raised, a confused expression on her face. “But, you’ve had lots of boyfriends! Are you telling me that not one of them could give you an orgasm?”
I shrugged my shoulders wanting badly to change the subject. “I’ve had three boyfriends that lasted more than a month – Ricky in high school, Dave in college, and Tom. Believe me; none of them were exactly skilled in bed.”
The girls nodded their heads in sympathy. Sarah looked at me hopefully, “What about that guy you were dating last year, uh… George, was it?”
“John. And, no.” Swallowing down the bitter feelings, I shook my head. John had been a disaster. I had hung onto that relationship for far too long, despite our utter lack of chemistry. I had enjoyed going on dates and having plans for the weekend, but certainly hadn’t enjoyed the awkward pawing and banal humping in the bedroom. Shuddering with disgust, I shook off the awful memories and pasted on a fake smile.
Jenna looked downright depressed. “When was the last time you got laid, anyway?”
“Yeah. It’s been a while.” I didn’t want to admit it had been over a year ago – since the last time I had been with John.
I picked up my drink and swallowed down the rest of the contents in one gulp, regretting that my offhand remark had killed all the fun we had been having, while gossiping and catching up with each other. Sarah had been dropping juicy tidbits about sex with her latest fling, a hunky firefighter, when I mumbled my confession. Maybe I was just jealous of all the fabulous sex that seemed to find her? Now, unfortunately, my two best friends were focused on my non-existent sex life.
Jenna interrupted my contemplation, “You know, Krista, you’re always dating responsible men, you know – the pasty-faced accountant types. No wonder they don’t do anything for you!”
Jenna had a point. In fact, John fit that description fairly accurately. But it wasn’t like I was turning away a bunch of hunky bad-boys. I didn’t exactly have my pick of the entire male species. The sexy studs that I fantasized about didn’t date women like me. They dated drop-dead gorgeous girls like Sarah, girls with size 2 figures, fashionable clothes, manicured nails, and high maintenance attitudes. And that was the opposite description of me.
No, I wasn’t hideous. In fact, I was rather cute. I was painstaking with my wardrobe to find clothes that were flattering and complimentary to my figure. I wasn’t high maintenance, but I did keep up with my hair, makeup and accessories to look stylish and, I liked to think, to look somewhat sophisticated. But I was completely aware of how people saw me. “Wow, Krista has such a pretty face. If only she lost twenty pounds…”
I shook my head, trying to clear the negative internal dialogue that always seemed to crowd in and ruin a good time. Where was that waiter? I needed another drink – especially with the direction I saw this conversation heading.
The sparkle that suddenly lit Sarah’s eyes had me inwardly groaning. “I know exactly what Krista needs. She needs a real manly man to get her juices flowing. No more boring bean-counters for her. What she needs is a hot cowboy!”
I turned to Jenna, but as I saw her eyes light up with mischief, I realized there would be no help from that corner. Jenna replied, “You’re right! I’ve seen a lot of hot guys here tonight that I wouldn’t mind getting naughty with myself.”
We all laughed as at just that moment Jenna winked at a passing cowboy who in turn tipped his hat to her as he walked by our table. Jenna was like that. She was never the most beautiful woman in the room, but she sure got lots of attention. She had a fun bubbly personality and exuded a confidence that attracted men of all types. I, on the other hand, was a little more reserved and more self-conscious around men.
Without a doubt, I knew my insecurities were holding me back. But it was impossible to block out that little voice inside my head. The voice that told me the handsome man talking to me wasn’t really interested, he was just being nice. The voice that told me I wasn’t worthy of my fantasy man. It was the voice that I constantly argued with and debated, but rarely won.
It was a few brief memories that always kept me from winning that debate. Incidents like the time in college, talking to the cute boy at the frat party when I overheard his friends joking that when he woke up in the morning, the ‘beer goggles’ would be off and he would see the ‘fat chick’. Or the time at work, when I overheard one of my colleagues joking that they should ‘get to the doughnuts before Krista found out about them’. There were other comments about my weight, almost never said directly to me; however, just as hurtful. Comments that left sharp pinpricks of tears stinging to escape my eyes and a hard lump in my throat as I swallowed down my shame.
While I was mature enough to realize I should never allow a few jerks to dominate my self-image, those few fleeting memories always seemed to chip away at my fragile self-confidence. So I never even looked twice at good-looking men. The inevitable sting of a nasty comment just wasn’t worth it. An average looking man who could overlook my flaws would do just fine.
I shook off my depressing thoughts just in time to notice Sarah and Jenna clinking their glasses together. “C’mon, Jenna. We have work to do. We’ve got to find Krista a hot cowboy stud for the night.”
I squirmed uncomfortably in the booth. “You know girls, I don’t think hot cowboys are quite my type.”
Jenna’s eyes twinkled merrily. “Don’t worry, Krista, you don’t have to marry the man. You just have to fuck him!”
Jake hailed down a passing waiter and ordered another beer. He had been nursing the last few sips of his current beer for the past ten minutes, just as he had been nursing his wounded pride. Had it only been two nights ago that he had found out that his girlfriend had been cheating on him? Angrily, he grabbed his beer and finished it in one swallow.
It had taken two days for the denial to pass and reality to set in. He had lavished Lacey with anything she wanted, and that was certainly no small endeavor. He had invested two years of time, energy and money into her. And this is how she repaid him?
Curiously, while the beer had slowly numbed his anger, it had shed some light on his many failed relationships. Lacey was just the last in a string of ex-girlfriends. Like many of the women before her, Lacey was a shallow woman with no ideals or convictions. Her only goals in life seemed to be snagging invitations to the hottest social engagements and keeping up her many beauty appointments. Lacey was a vacant gold digger who only used him for his status and money.
In the cold light of reality, he had never loved Lacey. He had used her just as much for her stunning good looks, as she had used him. If he searched deep in his heart, he realized that he wasn’t that broken up after all. In fact, maybe he was even slightly relieved. My God, hadn’t he even been casually thinking about proposing to her? When he really thought about it, it was really only the hurt of betrayal and the humiliation of being cheated on that had him so upset.