Is There Still Sex in the City? - Page 25

Out of an obligation to be nice she told herself, Mia invited him to stop by for a drink sometime.

And maybe out of an obligation to be nice back, he put her number in his phone.

The next evening, around 7:00 p.m., when Mia was lying in bed watching a reality show on Bravo, her phone buzzed.

A text: Hey, it’s Jess.

Mia’s mood immediately lifted. Hi Jess, she wrote back.

You around? Want to hang?

Sure, Mia wrote, not caring that she couldn’t even be bothered to be coy.

Neither could Jess. They hadn’t gone through a glass of wine before he put his hands on either side of Mia’s face and began kissing her. Mia expected herself to resist but instead was shocked by how instantly she was aroused—a sensation she hadn’t known she could still experience.

After a short make out session, Jess took her hand and guided her upstairs into an empty guestroom. He took off his clothes and so Mia took off hers as well. Then he went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and beckoned for her to join him.

He leaned over—he was at least eight inches taller than she was, which was amazing considering Brian had been two inches shorter—and they began making out again while soaping each other’s bodies. Another thing Mia hadn’t done in a very long time. Then he bundled her up into a towel and spun her around and out of the towel, which he laid down on the bed.

He leaned over her again, kissing her until she was beneath him.

And then it was like being in a porn film. He performed cunnilingus, his tongue darting here and there, then turned her around for the sixty-nine. His cock was shortish and fat, but before she could really get to it, he lay back and reached for the condom he had at the ready. He rolled it on and pulled her forward to mount him. She rubbed the top of his penis against her vagina, feeling for the magic opening where he could slip in without jarring. He gave a jerk of his hips and in he went and Mia began rocking her pelvis, feeling him inside and feeling—for the first time in a long time—confident. As if she were kind of an expert. Like she really could be in a porn film.

Ride ’em, cowgirl, she thought.

And then he came when she was almost ready to come but didn’t. But it was okay she reassured him. She would, next time.

He left ten minutes later. Mia was too wiped out to notice or actually care.

Two weeks passed and then three. Three weeks in which Mia didn’t see or hear from Jess. At first, she was angry. But the emotion faded. She told herself she shouldn’t have been surprised. Men sucked, and Jess was just another example.

She went back to the rosé bottle, which didn’t disappoint, and dove deep.

A rare text pulled her out of her stupor.

Hey, it said. Want to hang?

Jess! She’d nearly forgotten about him. And once again, she couldn’t believe how excited she was to hear from him. She texted back: When?

He replied immediately. I’m with my bud. We’ll come by in twenty.

Jess’s friend Drew was kind of creepy, but Mia did her best to ignore him in favor of this opportunity to see Jess. She got drunk quickly. They all did. Then Drew left and she and Jess went upstairs. “I’m not going to do this,” Jess said. “You’re too wasted.”

This was the last thing Mia wanted to hear. “I’m not wasted. Come on,” she said, shocked by the note of desperation in her voice.

Jess hesitated but not for long. He took off his pants and Mia put her hand around his penis, noting once again his super-hard hard-on that only the young possessed.

But this time the sex was over far too quickly, and before Mia could stop him, he was gone. She grabbed a bottle of wine and went back to bed. And once again, before long, it was six in the morning and her head hurt like hell. She gulped some water and took another half of a sleeping pill.

* * *

A week later, at two in the afternoon, Jess showed up at the house with Drew again.

Mia, who couldn’t be bothered to pretend anymore, opened a fresh bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. They sat down at the kitchen table.

“So listen, Mia,” Drew said. “We have a problem.”

“We do?” This wasn’t what Mia was expecting. She didn’t think she knew either one of these guys well enough to have “a problem” with them.

Tags: Candace Bushnell Fiction
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