Some Girls Do

Chapter Sixteen




Like an Absolute Beginner

Recently I’ve been told that my sexual confidence can come across as intimidating. That makes me kind of sad. It’s not my intention in this blog to make anyone feel inadequate, so I want to take some time out to assure my more inexperienced readers that I wasn’t always the smooth operator you see before you now. It took me a while to get into sex. It took even longer to turn me into the cock-hungry shag-monster I am today. My first couple of times were probably as messy and unsatisfying as they are for most people. Sex was embarrassing, bewildering and a lot less fun than dinner and a movie. If it was a choice between sex and a pizza, I’d have gone for the pizza every time.


It wasn’t until I met the Artist that I discovered how much fun two people could have rubbing their bits against each other. I wasn’t a virgin when I met the Artist, but I might as well have been. He was the first guy to go down on me. His was the first cock I deep-throated, the first spunk I chugged down. He gave me the first orgasm I ever had that wasn’t a selfie.

He’s come back into my life recently, and we’re boning for old times’ sake. Hence the trip down Memory Lane. It’s reminded me of just how clueless I once was, and what a difference a good teacher can make. So if you’re still struggling with what all the fuss is about, rest assured, no one is born this way. I was once like you – probably worse. In fact, I’d almost given up on sex. But I’m so glad I didn’t.

So stick with it. It gets better. Don’t feel you have to know everything right from the off. Experiment, try different things, and don’t be afraid to ask questions. Learning is fun. Don’t worry about getting laughed at – no guy will dare laugh when you’ve got his dick in your mouth or his balls in your hand.

Like everything else, practice makes perfect – and if at first you don’t succeed, try, try and try again. I promise you it will be worth it.

(On the other hand, maybe you just prefer pizza. And that’s fine too.)


‘Good weekend?’ Yvonne asked Claire the next day. They were having lunch in the back room of Bookends. Yvonne was eating a tiny pot of fromage frais while thumbing idly through a thick glossy magazine.

‘Yes, lovely weekend.’ Claire couldn’t help grinning as she unwrapped a sandwich.

Yvonne glanced up. ‘Well, look at you, all sexed up!’ She beamed, abandoning her magazine to focus on Claire.

‘What? What makes you think I’m—’

‘You have that glow,’ Yvonne said. ‘And I have excellent sex radar. I can always tell who’s doing it and who’s not. And you,’ she said, pointing a finger at Claire, ‘are doing it. Right?’

‘Well …’ Claire tried, but she couldn’t wipe the smug smile off her face. She was all sexed up. There was no use denying it. She had gone from being practically a virgin to a total sex maniac in just over a week.

‘So you couldn’t hold out for five dates, after all,’ Yvonne said, folding her arms on the table. ‘I told you that was harsh.’

‘Oh, um … no. This was … someone else.’ She felt like a bit of a tart admitting it.

‘Wow! You may be slow to get started, but once you get going, you don’t hang around, do you? Where did you meet this guy?’

‘At a bar. I was with a friend.’

‘And you didn’t make him wait. You’re obviously more into him than London guy.’

‘It’s not like that. This guy is more just a sort of … I mean he’s not boyfriend material or anything.’

Yvonne’s eyes lit up. ‘So you’ve got yourself a f*ck buddy!’ she said delightedly.

‘I suppose you could call him that.’ It seemed a pretty accurate description of her relationship with Luca – or as close as she could get without going into some very long, and mortifying, explanations.

‘And you’ll be seeing him again?’

‘Oh, definitely.’

‘Good. Because this,’ Yvonne said, waving a finger around in front of Claire’s face, ‘is a really good look on you.’

Claire wished she could tell Yvonne that it was Luca because then she could ask her about him. She had thought about looking up his mother’s book on the computer that morning when she came in, but realised she didn’t even know his last name. She had tried to think of casual ways to bring him up in conversation but had drawn a blank. She knew Yvonne wouldn’t mind – in fact, she’d probably be delighted since she’d suggested it herself. But she doubted Luca would be pleased if he heard she was telling his friends that they were ‘together’.

‘I’m thinking of getting vajazzled,’ Yvonne said thoughtfully. She had returned to her magazine. ‘What do you think?’ She turned the magazine around and slid it across the table to Claire.

‘Oh!’ Claire found herself staring at a page full of photos of women’s bejewelled and sparkly nether regions under the cheery headline ‘Bling up your Vajayjay!’

‘That butterfly is pretty, isn’t it?’ Yvonne said, pointing to one of the pictures. ‘I might go for something like that. It’s Ivan’s birthday next week, so I might do it to surprise him.’

‘But you’d have to get someone to do it,’ Claire said, horrified at the thought of having a stranger get that up close and personal with her ‘vajayjay’. ‘It’d be so embarrassing.’

‘No worse than having a wax.’

‘Well, there’s waxing and waxing.’ Claire had never even had the nerve for a Brazilian.

These vajazzled girls were all completely bald. She wondered if that had become the norm.

‘Have you ever had a Brazilian?’ she asked Yvonne.

‘I used to have them all the time,’ Yvonne said. ‘But now I always have a Hollywood.’

‘You mean – everything off?’

‘Yes, completely bare. I swear, once you get it, you never go back. It feels amazing!’

‘Do you think anyone still just … leaves it?’

‘Full bush, you mean?’ Yvonne said. ‘Eew, gross!’ Her lip curled. ‘I doubt anyone has that any more – except maybe oldsters who don’t know any better.’

Claire blushed. ‘Yeah, I was just wondering.’

‘But everything goes in cycles,’ Yvonne said quickly. ‘I’m sure that will come back. Or you could be rocking a retro look.’

Of course Claire knew that radical waxing was very popular, but she’d had no idea how ubiquitous it was. It had never occurred to her that her bog-standard bikini wax might be way behind the times. After all, it wasn’t as if she saw a lot of naked women. But Luca did. Damn it, why hadn’t he said anything? Maybe he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She hoped he didn’t find it repulsive. He didn’t seem to but, then, she was paying him. People put up with all sorts of things they didn’t like for money. She would just have to ask him about it later – she might as well. He had already seen her in all her natural glory, so it was too late to make a good first impression on him.

‘You can keep that, if you like.’ Yvonne nodded at the magazine as she got up. ‘I’ve finished with it.’

‘Thanks.’

Claire spent the rest of her lunch break thumbing through the magazine. She automatically sought out the inevitable sex tips and read them with interest: ‘Five Ways to Drive Him Wild in Bed’ and ‘Bondage for Beginners’. She had read a lot of these over the years while researching her blog, but she had never had the opportunity to put them into practice. Maybe she could try some of them with Luca.


After work, she spent some time with her mother, but several of her mother’s friends arrived while she was there, so she didn’t stay long. Then she headed over to Luca’s, picking up a pizza for them on the way. Later, when they were relaxing on the sofa with a glass of wine, she steeled herself to broach the subject.

‘Luca, can I ask you something?’


‘Shoot.’

‘You know my – my, um … fanny?’

He smirked. ‘Yes, I am intimately acquainted with your fanny.’

‘Well, were you surprised when you first saw it?’

‘Surprised?’ He frowned at her, his lips twitching in amusement. Then he rubbed his chin, as if considering her question carefully. ‘No, I can’t honestly say I was surprised. I knew you were a girl, so I kind of guessed you’d have one.’

‘But were you surprised about … what it looked like?’

He laughed then, a deep, throaty sound. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’d seen one before – more than one, actually.’

Claire frowned. This was embarrassing enough without him laughing at her.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Was it supposed to be a surprise?’

‘I know you’ve seen them before. But had you seen one – you know, like mine?’

‘They all look pretty much the same, you know, give or take.’ He leaned his forehead on hers, grinning at her, his eyes dancing with merriment. ‘Oh, baby, all this talk of your twat is making me horny as hell. Let’s go to bed.’

She huffed, pushing him away. ‘But was there anything that you thought was … unusual about it?’ she persisted.

He frowned, looking at her quizzically. ‘No.’

‘It seemed normal to you?’

‘Is that what you’re worried about? Yes, it’s perfectly normal,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her. ‘But maybe I should take another look.’ He popped the button on her jeans as he spoke. His fingers began tugging down the zip and she slapped them away.

‘You have nothing to worry about,’ he said. ‘It’s beautiful. I’d like to paint it. If I was a poet, I’d write it an ode.’

‘And you don’t think it’s too …’

‘What?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Hairy,’ she mumbled, looking down at her hands.

‘Ah, so that’s what all this is about. Finally!’

‘So?’

‘No. It’s not too hairy.’

‘Is it unusual, though? I mean you’ve been with a lot of girls. Do most of them—’

‘Yeah, a lot of them have barely anything. I don’t get it myself.’

‘You don’t mind … a full bush?’

‘No, I think it’s sexy, actually. It’s womanly – as opposed to girly. I don’t understand the obsession with making grown women look like pre-pubescent girls or sexless dolls.’

She should have known a bit of body hair wouldn’t faze Luca. But maybe he wasn’t the best person to ask. He was very earthy – which made him a great teacher: he was so matter-of-fact about sex and bodies, and she knew she could discuss anything with him. But it also meant he didn’t have a problem with things that other people might find off-putting. Plus he was an artist – he saw beauty in all sorts of things that most people wouldn’t find beautiful at all.

‘It is unusual, though? I just don’t know what a guy would expect.’

‘What this Mark dude will expect, you mean?’

‘Yeah. He might not like it.’

‘He should feel privileged if you let him anywhere near it.’

‘But the girl on my blog would probably be more up-to-date on stuff like this. If that’s what everyone’s doing nowadays …’

Luca shrugged. ‘You should do what you want. It’s your body. If you’re comfortable with it, he should be too.’

‘Hmm, maybe,’ she said, chewing her lip.

‘Let me show you something.’ He took her hand and pulled her up off the sofa, leading her towards the corner of the room he used as his studio.

‘What is it?’ she asked warily. ‘I’m not going to strip off and let you paint me.’

‘It’s not that. I want to show you how beautiful a natural woman can be.’

‘Oh.’ She tried to ignore the stab of jealousy she felt. She glanced around at the canvases stacked against the walls and on benches, and wondered if this ‘natural woman’ had been a girlfriend or just a model. But instead of reaching for one of the canvases, he went to a shelf in a corner of the room and took down a large book. He flipped through the pages, then laid it down on the worktop.

‘Look.’ He pointed to the page.

Claire came to stand beside him, looking down at the painting in the book – the torso of a naked woman lying on a bed with her legs spread. It was such a graphic close-up of the genital area that she couldn’t help feeling shocked. ‘It’s very … powerful,’ she said, trying to be grown-up about it and not show her revulsion. But she knew her lip was curling like Yvonne’s had earlier over the idea of a full bush. Maybe she should go for a Brazilian …

‘It’s Courbet, L’Origine du Monde. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?’ Luca was gazing at it lovingly.

‘Um … no, not really. It’s a big hairy snatch. I mean, I’m sure it’s very good, but I wouldn’t want it hanging on my wall or anything.’

Luca laughed. ‘You’re such a philistine!’ he said, bumping shoulders with her. ‘I think it’s amazing.’

He was definitely the wrong person to ask, she thought. She’d start looking into waxing options tomorrow.

‘Okay, look at this one,’ he said flipping to another page, a painting of a naked woman reclining on a couch. ‘It’s Goya. La Maja Desnuda. This was the first depiction of pubic hair in Western art. It’s a very sexy painting, isn’t it?’

Claire had to admit it was. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Pubic hair was never shown in classical art. You’ve probably heard that story about Ruskin discovering his wife had pubic hair on the night of their wedding, and freaking out because he thought there was something wrong with her.’

Claire nodded.

‘It’s probably not true, but the sad thing is it may be. He might never have seen a real woman naked, and in the paintings and sculptures he’d have known, they’d have been hairless.’

‘Those Old Masters have a lot to answer for.’

‘And now internet porn is doing the same thing – all those hairless bodies. There are probably some young guys growing up now who think that’s normal.’

‘That’s the problem, though,’ she said, turning to face him. ‘Maybe Mark’s one of them. I mean, not that he’s never seen pubic hair, but maybe it’s not what he’s used to.’

Luca sighed. ‘Like I say, do what you want. But will you promise me one thing?’ he asked, running a hand through his curls.

‘What?’

‘If you do decide to hack it all off, you’ll let me paint you first.’

His eyes were alive with excitement and she swallowed hard. She glanced back at the book. She couldn’t see herself posing like that, her twat on display for all the world to see. But he seemed so eager.

‘I don’t know. How long would it take?’ She would feel so ridiculous lying around naked for hours, flaunting her body like she thought she was all that.

‘A few days maybe. It would just be me,’ he said persuasively, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

‘But what about afterwards, when it was finished?’

‘I wouldn’t sell it. I wouldn’t even show it to anyone else, if you don’t want me to.’


‘Days?’ She frowned. She didn’t like the idea of lying around naked for days with him staring at her. He’d seen her naked plenty of times, of course, but this would be different. His gaze would be so intensely focused on her. She didn’t know if she could handle that.

‘I could do it from photographs, if that would be easier for you. I’d just have to take a few snaps. I could make the painting from those.’

‘Is it just as good using photographs?’

‘Well, I’d rather have the real thing, but …’

He obviously really wanted this, and he’d been so nice to her. It seemed like the least she could do. Besides, it would be good practice for her – she had to get used to being looked at naked. ‘Okay,’ she whispered.

‘You’ll do it? You’ll pose for me?’ His eyes lit up, and she couldn’t help smiling back at him.

‘Yeah, if you want me to that much.’

‘Thank you.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his fingers going to the buttons of her shirt as he kissed his way down her neck.

‘You want to start right now?’ she asked, pulling back. She wasn’t sure she was ready just yet.

‘Right now, I want to f*ck you. I wasn’t joking about all that twat talk turning me on. Besides, I want to paint you afterwards, when you’re all glowing and voluptuous with that just-f*cked look.’

‘Oh!’

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom, and they spent the next couple of hours working on Claire’s post-coital glow.

‘This is how I want to paint you,’ Luca said some time later, propped up on one elbow beside her in bed. ‘Just like this.’ His thumb stroked over her swollen lips and then his hand moved down to cup her breast, his eyes following wherever he touched. ‘You’re so beautiful – all full and sated, and alive.’

Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard posing naked for him, Claire thought. Because the way Luca looked at her made her feel so sexy and beautiful, like she really was all that.