The Virgin Intern

By: Penny Wylder

I’ve kissed people before. Okay, fine, I’ve kissed one person before. And it was nowhere near as hot as those few moments when it felt like we connected.

Now my brain won’t leave me alone. It’s constantly finding ways to imagine what would have happened had that moment continued, what might have been if we hadn’t been interrupted. I imagine him closing that gap and pressing his lips onto mine, and together we move backward, hands tearing at each other’s clothes, until he’s pressing me up against the wall.

My fingers find my way into my underwear as I imagine his lips tracing down my throat. His lips are soft and his tongue is teasing me. His hands are undoing the buttons of my shirt and he doesn’t miss a beat moving down to my breasts, tracing my nipples through the fabric. I imagine my fingers fisting in his hair, pressing his head closer to me, urging him to touch more of my skin.

My body heats up and I can feel myself getting wet under my fingers as I let my imagination run wild. He’s kissing me again and our bodies are pressed together, and even through our clothes it feels so good. Then his hand is on my skin, sliding down my stomach and under my waistband. His fingers are touching me there and he dips inside me at the same time he plunges his tongue into my mouth. My body arches, and I can see myself gasping, relishing the sensation of being caught up in him.

I move my fingers faster, and I can feel myself getting closer. I open Andrew’s shirt and envision his beautiful chest, his hard abs. His pants are unbuckled and he lifts me off my feet, my legs wrapping around his waist. With one strong, deep plunge, he glides inside me and it feels amazing. I imagine what it’s like to feel that full, to feel pleasure radiating out from every stroke. He locks eyes with me as he thrusts into me again, and again, and I can feel that I’m on the edge—


I roll over into my pillow and groan as my alarm clock erases what was sure to be an amazing orgasm. Damn. Fantasy sex is all I have and I can’t even get all the way through that. Now I’m sweaty and horny and unsatisfied. I tap my phone to stop the screeching, and resist the urge to throw it against the wall. Not even eight a.m. And the day is off to a great start. At least I don’t have to go to the office for long.

I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, mentally ticking off the things I need to do before I leave. Today I’m moving…well, temporarily. My uncle’s current—and biggest—case is the Sterling murder. Timothy Sterling, a self-made software millionaire is accused of killing his wife. She was found dead in their home. There were no witnesses and he can’t provide a credible alibi. My uncle and the firm are defending Mr. Sterling. He was released on bail, but given the high profile nature of the case, the court commanded that he remain on his estate. That makes it hard to meet with him as his estate is two hours outside of the city.

So, as of today, my uncle is moving into Mr. Sterling’s guest house for the duration of the defense. This is so that Uncle Roger can have immediate access to his client, but also to make sure that Sterling doesn’t do anything stupid. And also as of today, I’m going there too. My uncle needs a go-between for the office and he can’t ask his assistant to stay at the guest house. That leaves me, the niece. Go figure. Nepotism for the win.

I need to pack my clothes and toiletries, and then go to the office and pick up a truly impressive number of file boxes to bring with me to the guest house.

While I’m packing my clothes I turn on the bare track of a song I’ve been working on in my spare time. It has a pretty melody, even though I don’t have words yet. But there’s a little counter melody in my head, just a few chords. I grab a piece of paper and quickly write the progression down. Actually, I have a couple of minutes and would really like to know what that sounds like.

I sit down at my computer’s keyboard and open up my music making software. When I input the chords, it sounds good. But not perfect. I think I should add this here, and an E chord there. It feels so natural to be making music that I don’t even notice the time. When I next look at the clock an hour has passed, and I’m still not finished packing. Shit.

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