Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Hot jets of cum start hitting the rest of my body as the other seven release their own streams of cum all over me. I shudder and collapse back, Gideon holding me up while the others paint my tits with their remaining hot loads.
I am covered in cum, dripping from my lips, oozing around Max’s softening cock still inside me. I move to lie on the couch.
All eyes are on me.
“Well, fuck,” I say, smiling up at them.
Life will sure be different starting today.
Chapter 18
Eve
I reach for the box on the top of my closet. The box contains my past. I guess every girl has one, or so I assume.
A memory box of their youth.
I started mine when I was a preteen, and now years later, I am back to see if things turned out the way I thought they would.
I pack the box into my overnight bag. I need a night away. The past week has been a rollercoaster ride for me. Sex—yes, sex—finally happened, and wow, that was not what I expected.
Don’t get me wrong. It was good, and I loved it, but it was not how a girl thinks her first time would go.
I’m going to my family’s vacation home for a few days. A place that I can reflect on what I’m doing and how I can make it all better.
I love Scarlet, but its success is now resting solely on my shoulders. That’s something that’s gotten me beyond stressed.
The drive to the vacation home is scenic, and I use the time to listen to a book on audio. I’ve been trying to finish this novel for months with no success. Maybe I can use this time away to at least finish one thing I started.
I made sure to tell the others—well, the club—that I would be unreachable for a few days, and I made sure not to let anyone know where I was going. I hope that no one worries. This trip is time for me to clear the cobwebs from my head.
Arriving at the house, I’m a little shocked that the place is spotless. No dust, nothing covered in cloth, and there is even a minimal amount of canned goods for food. I made sure to stop on the way in for a few things, but this definitely helps.
Setting my bags down, a pang of memories washes over me. I remember coming here so many times with my family in my youth. We spent summers here and Christmases sitting by the fire—and for a moment, the emotions run down my cheeks in the form of tears. I’m not sad, just nostalgic.
Once settled in, I put on the kettle for a cup of tea. Fire is now roaring in the fireplace, warming the place with a soft glow of light and heat. I missed this place more than I realize.
Once the whistle of the pot blows, I grab my cup of tea and settle down in front of the fire with the box. My past fills that small box, all my hopes and dreams sitting inside.
I pull in a deep breath, taking the lid off the cardboard container. The first thing I notice is how floral it smells.
There’s a little hint of roses still inside. I can’t help but laugh at myself for a moment—I have a small souvenir inside from my Homecoming Queen bouquet, my prom corsage, and even my high school graduation flowers. I was such a silly girl back then.
It’s not till I get to the bottom that I find what I’m looking for now. Inside is my diary from my pre-teen and teenage years. I know I wrote every thought and dream inside of that book. I trace my fingers over my name, Evelynn Travers, embossed on the cover. The diary was a gift from my mother.
Do I even want to open this link to my past? A part of me is fearful that nothing worked out as I planned, but the other part knows that I am going to be okay.
I am okay.
Slowly, I open the diary. The words are childlike and straightforward.
“Today I played ball with Bobby next door. He’s so cute. I’m going to marry him one day.”
I laugh out loud, the sound of my voice echoing through the small room. I can’t even remember what he looked like. I must have had my first crush on that kid next door.
I’m sure this was the same thing a million other girls wrote. Only the names were different.
I skim through the pages, laughing, crying, and feeling like I have a national treasure in my hands. Well, my treasure, at least. It isn’t till I get about a hundred pages in that I come to the part I needed to read.
The page where I claimed to know how my virginity would be taken.