Broken Carts ✔️

Aisle 17: Precipice

I lost my virginity to Diana Lefstrom when I was sixteen. She was my girlfriend at the time– or rather, she became my girlfriend a week later when the rumors started spreading and we both needed dates to prom anyway. She was talkative, brash, and wild.

"Don't worry about me," Diana cooed on the couch in her basement as I apologized for going slow to prevent premature ejaculation. "I've done this before. Focus on yourself." I took her advice and came within five minutes.

It was only when she broke up with me that I heard from a friend-of-a-friend that she didn't orgasm a single time while we were together. That was a blow to the ego and a wake-up call that imitating stuff I'd seen in porn wouldn't get me very far.

The condoms Ezra tossed on my conveyor belt brought me back to being a sexually stupid sixteen-year-old, but this time, I didn't have a vast knowledge of PornHub videos to tip me off on what goes where and when and why and how. I was clueless.

In a panic, I briefly considered asking Lynette for help. Maybe he's talked to her about the ins and outs, I thought. Literally. Oh my God, I'm going to have to Google this, aren't I?

"I'm guessing you haven't told him," Lynette stated as we drove home.

I winced. "What... what haven't I told who?"

"Fuck," sighed Lynette. "You really haven't told 'Ra you've never had sex with a guy."

"I think I mentioned it–"

"Don't lie to me."

I groaned. "Sue me for not knowing how to bring it up, okay? It's not like Ezra ever asked. He just assumed I was a dick-giving-and-or-receiving God."

"I think he's hoping you're the giving type. If you get my drift."

"You mean he's a..." Lynette nodded. I gulped. "Alright, so, like, if I were to be 'the giving type,' how would I go about... doing it?"

Lynette paused, then started laughing so hard she rolled through a stop sign. An old guy in a pick-up truck beeped at us for ten seconds straight. "You want me, the biggest lesbian in all of the land, to tell you how to fuck another guy? With your penis and junk? Jesus, 'Lo, you fuckin' kill me."

When we got back to the apartment, Ezra was napping. I laid down on the couch and tried to figure out how to search for first time male on male sex on the internet without getting questionable results.

Ezra bought those condoms to give us the option of fucking. It's not like it's going to happen tonight, I thought as I rubbed my temples. I bet he knows I've only fucked girls, he's just never addressed it directly. Yeah, that's it! He already knows, so there's no pressure. As if on cue, my bad ankle experienced a sharp pain. I reached down to massage it, hoping this wasn't my body's way of telling me I was an idiot.

Then Lynette grabbed her laptop from the coffee table and put it in her bag. I bolted upright on the couch. "Hey, uh, going somewhere?" I said with a nervous chuckle.

"Millie's place. Remember?" I must've been sporting one hell of a terrified look, because when she glanced over at me, she pursed her lips and whispered, "be honest with him."

"It's not that easy," I mumbled.

"Why?"

"Well, I..." Feel embarrassed? Think he'll get weirded out? Don't want to come off as inexperienced? "...I don't know," I mumbled.

She patted my shoulder, gave me a have fun with the internal crisis, kid kind of look, and slung the bag over her shoulder.

The door to Ezra's room creaked open. My breath got short. "You're actually heading out?" Ezra grunted from the other room.