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She bristles. “Are you sure?”
“Uh... yeah.” I chuckle. “I’m sure.”
“Because I heard some noises the other night that seem to indicate otherwise.”
I hold my breath. “What noises?”
“A moan here. A squeak of the mattress there. A heated grunt — my favorite by far, by the way.”
I look down, my cheeks on fire. “We did... some stuff.”
“Mouth stuff? Thrusty stuff?” she asks. “What we talking about here?”
I scoff, amused. “How do you talk about this so casually?”
“Casual sex is, by definition, casual.”
“Drew and I aren’t casual,” I point out. “And we didn’t have sex.”
Her brow arches. “You didn’t?”
“No.”
“Then, what were you doing in there? P90X?”
I chuckle as I search for the right words. “Hand... stuff.”
“Hand stuff?” she repeats. “Over the clothes, dry-humping kind of stuff?”
“Like...” I lower my voice as more students enter the room. “Naked in bed together, tender kisses and touching… stuff.”
“Did you come?”
I flinch at her volume. “Jenna!” I snap with a whisper.
“Right. Sorry.” She clears her throat. “Did you swell in a glorious climax as your hearts beat as one?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“Him, too?”
“Yes. We… came together.” I bite my lip, feeling the memory all over again. “Twice.”
She pauses for a moment, then nods. “That’s some sexy shit,” she says.
“It was nice and romantic and I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I remain a virgin.”
“Ah, yes. The technical virgin argument.”
I shrug. “We didn’t have sex.”
“You lied down naked together and brought each other to mutual, simultaneous orgasm. You, my friend, had some sex.”
“But we didn’t have sex sex,” I argue.
“You have got to stop giving so much meaning to vaginal intercourse. It’s such a small part of sex! It’s not even the best part of sex.”
I pause. “It’s not?”
