The Virgin Romance Novelist

By: Meghan Quinn



As I took the subway home, I thought about my life situation. I was currently being bullied by a twenty pound tabby cat with the devil in his eyes; my job, which paid the bills, was horrifying to have on my resume as a real life job, and my sex life was non-existent. I needed a change and big time.

I’m in my twenties, I should be out perusing the sexual dating pot of overeager gentlemen and horny homies that New York City has to offer, instead of dating my book boyfriends, even though they were the only kind of men who could truly satisfy me. They were perfect.

The eclectic people of the subway flowed in and out of the train, listening to music on their phones, texting, and some were even making out in the corner. Being the pervert I was, I watched the couple making out with fascination, how their hands ran up and down each other’s bodies, how they barely came up to breathe…

I want that! I want to know what it was like to stick my tongue down a guy’s throat. I want to know what it looks like to see a boner in live action, instead of just reading about it. If I’m going to get out of the crazy cat lady life I’m living and finally write the romance novel I’ve been working on for years, then I need to experience life; I need to have sex!

With renewed vigor, I walked off the subway, up to my apartment, and into my room. I was going to make a game plan on how to lose my virginity. Delaney was right, I needed to start experimenting, getting myself out there and taking notes, because when I was finally ready to have a man bee pollinate my flower, I wanted to remember everything about it.

Dropping my purse on the side table, I grabbed some water from the fridge and went to my bedroom, where there was a little gift bag sitting on my bed with a note. I closed my door and flopped on my bed, wondering what one of my roommates had left me. I opened the card and read it out loud.

“Time to find your big ‘O’. Love you, Henry.”

Confused, I dug through the bag and pulled out a little pink nugget the size of a bullet and a kindle that had a note on it saying it was fully stocked. My heart fluttered at the gift of books, but then observed the nugget, wondering what it was.

“What the hell?”

I twisted it in my hand and it immediately started vibrating, sending the searing color of red to my face.

Henry got me a vibrator. A vibrator! What the hell was I supposed to do with a vibrator?

“Henry?” I called out to the apartment with the bullet in my hand, looking around for my roommates, but no one was home. I went to Henry’s room, where there was a note hanging on the door.





Rosie – won’t be home until late tonight, turn down the lights, get naked and have some fun. Love you – Henry P.S. I hope I loaded some good books; I picked all the ones with half naked men on the front. Thought those would be inspiring.





“Oh, my God, I hate him,” I said, as I stormed off to my bedroom and slammed my door shut.

I tossed the bullet back in the bag, but left the Kindle on my nightstand, still giddy about that gift but irritated about the other. I went to my desk, where I pulled out a fresh notebook and wrote, “My Sex Diary” on the front. Feeling already accomplished with my progress, I opened the notebook and started writing.





June 2, 2014

I saw a couple making out on the subway today…





For at least five minutes, I sat and stared at my first journal entry, not knowing what else to write. I was so lame. If this wasn’t an indication of how much I needed to venture out of my comfort zone, then I didn’t know what was. My annoyance with Henry started to wear off as I realized I might just need the unwarranted help he was offering. I could feel the gift bag on my bed begging to be opened again, to be played with. Damn it.

I eyed the bag, thinking that it might not be a bad thing to try; it was a new experience, it could help clue me in on what to expect of what’s to come.

Taking a deep breath, I set my pen down, went to my door and called out to my roommates once again; no one responded, indicating that I was home alone. I shut the door and turned toward my bed, eyeing the bag once again.

I can do this, I told myself, as I went over to the bag and pulled out the little vibrator, wondering why Henry got such a small one. The only conclusion I could come to was because I was a virgin and didn’t have much experience with longer man items.

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