“You don’t like sex?” repeated Laurel in shock to Silver, “You’ve had it, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I’ve had sex!” replied Silver laughing, “I just don’t see what the big deal about it is.”
“You haven’t had sex. You just let some guy play Operation,” interjected Darion causing their table to erupt in laughter.
They were sitting in Silver’s bar after her band had finished performing for the night. There had been several rounds of drinks, and lips were loose. Michael loved to watch Silver perform. She would always wear the tightest pair of pants she owned with a shirt that emphasized her ample cleavage and narrow waist. Tonight, she was wearing a pair of low-rise jeans that showed off the curves of her hips. Her shirt was an old AC/DC tour shirt that she’d ripped down the middle and tied in the back. Tonight’s wig was an huge, curly, black disarray with streaks of red. She was wearing mascara, heavier than normal, and her lips were a bright red.
Everything about her screamed sex and was in complete contradiction with her admission.
“You’ve never had an orgasm,” stated Michael matter-of-factly.
She looked at him incredulously, a common look. “How do you figure?”
Michael considered her and then pulled her chair to him. “Because if a man had ever taken his time and traveled over every nook and cranny of your body with his hands and tongue, if he’d let you writhe underneath him until you were clawing at his back for release, and if he’d then, and only then, use every inch of him to cause every nerve in your body to fire until you were over- heated, over-stimulated, and clinging to him.” He knew she was aroused because her breathing had turned shallow. “Had that happened, you would know what the big deal is.”
Michael took a swig of his beer as she looked up at him in amazement. She turned back to Laurel and Darion. “I think I just had my first orgasm.”