The Big O (The Virgin Diaries) Read online

  “Yeah, they were good until Chandra blew a snot rocket on hers and made me gag.”

  “You’re going to have to work on that gag reflex of yours if you ever intend on becoming a cum guzzler.”

  “Out.” I point to the door and begin walking over to it.

  The clatter of happy voices begins to parade down the hall. I greet each smiling face with a high five or hug. I’ve found no matter how miserable my life is that the bright and bubbling innocence of first graders makes it all disappear.

  “Grab a drink and your fruit snack quickly little friends before our final career week visitor arrives.”

  I continue talking about our visitor for career week, flipping through a PowerPoint presentation of our past visitors from the week and then finally end on the final slide. My little gems all take out their reflection notebook and begin jotting down questions they might have about being a police officer. Then I take a count of how many students think they just might go into the field of work. I pick the mini-teacher of the week to place the tally marks up on her learning objective poster.

  It’s really a small community of little ants in my room. There are weekly jobs that rotate each week which students love to do. You know, line leader, mini teacher, neat freak, hall monitor and on and on. And then there are the golden tickets they earn when they do their job. It’s quite magical around the month of April having them all trained to run like oiled machines.

  A knock at the door distracts me from admiring the little minions and how far they’ve come in just one year from sounding out the alphabet to full-out reading. One of life’s greatest miracles that it’s happened and I haven’t spiraled into a full fledged alcoholic by now.

  “Jenni, go ahead and get the door.” She’s the greeter for the week and very enthusiastic about it as she bounds over to the door, stumbling along the way.

  I take a seat behind that very special student, who is a perfect angel when I’m near him. Crazy how that shit works. I laugh in my head thinking he will be very acquainted with the law and not in the working way.

  “Class, this is Officer Oren O’Brien,” Jenni proudly announces.

  I pick up my gaze from the back of Kane’s blonde locks and come eye to eye with Officer O’Brien. My gaze locks with his deep chocolate brown pupils and I feel the room grow hotter by twenty degrees. Sweat beads form on my brow. He’s tall, lean, dark, and motherfucking gorgeous.

  “Hello, class.” He nods to the students.

  And all I can focus on his bulging biceps in his dark uniform. For a second, I think this is a practical joke Scout has played on me, sending in a damn stripper to our class. His voice is even downright dripping sexy as he introduces himself to the class. It’s hypnotic, sweeping me off into a forest of fairies and sinful sexiness.

  “Ms. Olander.”

  A voice snaps me out of my daydream.

  Kane tugs on the hem of my shirt. “He asked you a question.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I put up a force shield over my features as I look back up to Officer Sex on a Stick. “What was that?”

  “I was sent in instead of the other officer; is there anything you’d like me to cover with these guys?”

  “Oh, uh…” I pull the pencil from behind my ear and nearly stab my own eye out with its sharp point. “Just about your job and why you decided to enter the field. They’ll have plenty of questions for you at the end.”

  A messy bun piled on the top of my head; is that really how I slopped my hair together when Fabio is in my room? My God, he’s gorgeous as hell.

  “Ms. Olander,” Kane whispers.

  I ignore him, hoping he’ll focus on the officer talking in the front of the room, but he doesn’t as he continues to tap my hand and whisper my name.

  “What?” I whisper yell, finally giving into him.

  “Your headlights are on.”

  “Uh?”

  “Your headlights.” He nods with his head.

  “Kane, you can’t even see my car.” I kneel down next to him. “You need to pay attention, okay?”

  “Your headlights,” he grits out between his teeth and then places both of his bawled up fists to his pecs and springs out both of his pointer fingers.

  My face heats up to a sizzling crimson, then gracefully I stand back up, and pretend to admire shoes and sure as shit both of my nipples are standing at attention, poking through the thin material of my school t-shirt.

  Boogers, boogers, snot, poop, boogers.

  I chant it over and over in my mind, trying to reign in my nipples and clear attraction for the officer. But all I do is make myself gag and try my best to cover it with a coughing fit, forcing down my gagger.

  “You okay, Ma’am?” Officer O’Brien asks.

  The rich smooth tone to his voice makes my insides quiver, turn liquid, and pool in desire. This man should be cuffed and locked away. It should be illegal to be this sexy and the mere thought of him being a hired stripper sent here by Scout is still active and alive in my mind.

  I wave him off and grab my throat, letting him know I’ll live and let him continue on. It only takes ten more minutes of him passionately telling my students how he decided to become an officer and why his job drives him to be a better human.

  Well, isn’t that just the fucking cherry on top of my horny sundae, he’s gorgeous, brave, and humble. I feel like attacking him and then slitting my wrists from embarrassment.

  “Any questions?” he asks the students.

  Rachel, my star student, shoots her hand straight up in the air, waving it wildly. Internally, I fist pump and then straighten my shoulders a bit because she’ll make me proud as hell.

  “I like your uniform.” She starts off her question and then sits a bit higher. “And your badge is super shiny.”

  “Thank you.” He leans forward, reading her name plaque on her desk. “Rachel.”

  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  He chuckles a bit. “Um, no.”

  And the silence before the storm hits, knocking me incoherent.

  “Neither does Ms. Olander and I think you two would make cute babies.”

  A wave of giggles from the girls and disgusted groans from the boys rolls over the classroom and before I have the chance to scold her and then crawl under the desk, Officer O’Brien speaks up.

  “Why thank you, Rachel, your teacher is very pretty.”

  And my ass cheeks and the cheeks on my face turn an inferno red from burning embarrassment. Note to self, Rachel will never be line leader the rest of the year.

  The officer keeps on answering question and thank God none of it has to do with me. His smooth deep voice lulls me into a trance and before I know it, it’s time for the kiddos to pack up, and rush out to the buses.

  I finally snap out of my sex induced coma and begin ushering the students out the door, lining up the walkers and bus riders, making sure each little nugget gets on their way. Officer Awesome Sexy Pants takes up residence on the corner of my desk, crossing his ankles and then his arms over his wide chest.

  “Ahhhhh.” A loud moan escapes me as I’m in a trance from each of his sexy gestures.

  “Ms. Olander, do you need to fart?”

  I painfully tear my gaze from the officer and down to Bryan. “What, sweetie?”

  “Do you have to fart?”

  “No, why?”

  “You keep moaning like your belly hurts, Ms. Olander like there’s a bad poop built up in you.”

  “Okay, out! Get along little friends, do your homework, and eat your veggies tonight.” I give each one of them a high five on the way out and feel my butthole pucker as I turn to face the sex god who rained down from the heavens.

  “Funny little fellows,” he says.

  His voice is richer than any chocolate I’ve tasted and drips pure sexiness.

  “Oh, they’re something.” I shake my head and pick up some lonely pencils on the tops of desks.

  “So, I’m new in town.”

  I look up at him and smil
e. No shit he’s new in town, I mean men like this don’t prance around Ontario, let alone the state of Oregon.

  “My chief sent me down on a last moment whim. Another officer was supposed to come but is down with the flu.”

  I nod, paying very close attention to him and especially to the thick veins in his neck flexing with each word he speaks. My tongue hungers to dart out, lapping over his delicious skin. I switch the energy of my racing mind to the pencil in my hand, spinning it and gripping it with Hulk strength.

  “He’d like to offer your class a free field trip to the department including bus fees and stuff. They’d get the full tour and experience of the department.”

  Omg. A second chance of seeing him. Omg, Omg, Omg, hamsters begin racing around in my mind. I can wear a sexy-sexy ass dress.

  The pencil snaps in my hand, causing a bomb of a sound to ring out through the room. “Oh, we’d love that.”

  I jump back, startled at my own power of snapping the pencil and try to remain cool, not letting him in on my embarrassment.

  “Perfect, here’s my card when you’re ready to set it up.” He waltzes up to me until there are only inches left between us and my headlights are now fully on high beams. It’s painful the way my body reacts to him. There have been sexy men in college and I’ve been to my fair share of frat parties where Greek gods strolled around in sheets, but this man is something else. He’s shredding my ovaries one word at a time. He has me ready to sink to my knees and I’ll make out with his one eyed monster after talking to first graders. Now, that’s a sex god if I’ve ever encountered one.

  “Ms. Olander, would you be interested?”

  I’m ready to strip down to my birthday suit and jump into his arms and ride off into the sweet sunset with the man. But instead, I’m flicked in the forearm with the sharp edge of the business card he’s been holding out.

  “I’ll…I’ll be in contact.” I snag the card from him and then study his tight ass in his dark dress pants uniform, nearly melting into an orgasming pool. “Thanks.”

  I offer up a weak wave as he turns the door handle of my classroom door. Holy shit, I’ve never seen that metal as a sex tool. That knob is beyond sexy and I’m ready to saddle up as his fingerprints leave an imprint on it.

  Head on straight, Olivia, and quit thinking about how you can dry hump that doorknob.

  Then I hear her voice.

  “Well, howdy there, Mr. Walking Lady Boner.” Scout waggles both of her eyebrows very acrobatically up at Officer Oren as she enters the room and he begins to exit.

  Their chests brush each other and as if in slow motion, I soak in my best friend, inventorying every single bit of sexiness of Oren. My feet plant firmly into the hideous baby blue stained carpet of my classroom. I mean, I love Scout like family, but in this moment the gal needs to be bitch slapped hard to the right fucking cheek. I’ll slit her with a butter knife.

  Oren opens his mouth to let out the words, “Excuse me.”

  It’s clear he heard her greeting when his smile lights up and he has dimples. Ovaries down. Ovaries down. The man is tall, dark, with chiseled features, and fucking panty-melting dimples dancing around his smile.

  And on cue, her knees buckle and cheeks flush crimson red. Bitch is getting a butter knife to her neck.

  And in true Scout fashion, she salutes him, hollering out Captain Lady Boner and then gracefully slips past him. The next portrait imprinted in my mind is Scout on her knees panting and waving the heat from her face. Me, on the other hand, I sprint for my classroom phone fumbling with the card in my hand. Damn rights, I’ll make that appointment taking the little gems on a field trip.

  Besides being cuffed and stuffed, there’s really not any other option. Although, the thoughts of Officer Oren and stuffing sure do give me the chills.

  Dear Diary,

  The hottest guy waltzed right into my classroom today. No joke! It looked like he was straight off the set from Hollywood. A young Tom Cruise, but a bit taller with more muscles. Oh my God, it was Tom Cruise on steroids.

  It’s not like he was there to rescue me and ride off on his white stallion. He was there for career week, lame I know! I’m sure my ovaries imploded. I shall dream of this hunk tonight.

  Love, O

  PS- Officer Oren O’Brien…fucking Os

  4

  Blind Date Vs. Diarrhea

  I’ve gone over every single excuse in the biggest book of excuses to get out of this damn date and not one has proven to satisfy my wicked best friend. The pukes and shits were solid until she texted back, “Prove it.”

  “Dammit, Pedro.” I chase after my little Yorkie, who has his teeth sunk into my favorite lace bra. It’s the one that makes me feel sexy, even though I have no one to feel sexy for.

  “You damn dog.” I bend over and swoop him up into my arms and just like all of the other times, he nuzzles into my neck and melts my heart. Pedro is the worst behaved dog in the world, but he’s just so damn cute. Scout teases me that it sounds like I have a sweatshop in my house because every time she walks up the steps all she hears is a crazy lady screaming out the name Pedro.

  I plop down on the couch and begin to brush his hair and daydream. Oh, I’ve been daydreaming since the second Officer Ladykiller stepped out of my classroom. He invades my sleep, waking me with my own loud moans. I’ve scoured Facebook and all other social media sites to stalk him. And there’s been no such luck. Maybe I got his last name wrong.

  If I had balls, I’d just march right down to the station, find him, and then ask him out on a date. As awkward as it would be, I totally would if my lady nuts were intact. Instead I’m brushing Pedro, avoiding getting ready for yet another tragic blind date.

  The relationship gods thrive on torturing me. I’ve been through it all. The hot quarterback in college who had the same IQ as a piece of wood, the nice guy who admitted on our first date that he still drinks his mother’s breast milk; yep she’s been pumping her titties for years to nourish him, oh and my favorite, the sexy geek who when talked about baby kittens, his loose khakis tented right over thy wiener region.

  Vomit threatens to spill out just thinking of the top three worst blind dates and I’m just naming the winners, not all of them. It seems all the handsome, normal, nice guys just want to be friends, hang out, and talk shop to my dad about mechanics and restoring old cars. I’m doomed; I’m pretty sure an evil sex witch cursed my mother’s ovaries, never giving me a chance at a normal life.

  My cellphone goes off, distracting me from the thoughts of an evil sex witch and butt pirates set out to destroy the universe. My dad’s name lights up my phone, making me smile.

  “Hey Pops.”

  “Whatcha doing, firecracker?”

  “Just sitting on the couch and brushing Pedro.” I cringe just hearing how awkwardly of a nerd I am.

  “Nice.”

  “And you?” I ask him.

  “Working late tonight. Business has been good. I picked up another big contract with a local taxi service to keep their cars going.”

  “That’s great Dad.” I push Pedro to the side, curling up into a comfortable pretzel on the couch. “You know you’re going to have to slow down at some point though.”

  He chuckles lightly into the phone. “Well, my plan was always for my son to take over the business.”

  “Well, you’re shit out of luck, Pops.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Olivia, and you know that.”

  “Dad.” I pause, not knowing how or how far to go with this.

  “Yeah?” I hear papers shuffling on his end of the line and know I’m starting to lose his full-attention.

  “I have another blind date tonight.”

  “Why do you keep punishing yourself with those? A nice young man will come along.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” I counter.

  “Look at your mom and me. She was a mail order bride and me just a kid trying to start his own business, too worried about work to date. We fell in love a
nd had you. Love stories don’t all happen the same way, Firecracker, give it time.”

  A laugh escapes me. “Yeah, true.”

  My elbow is suddenly being attacked by a very horny Yorkie, “Pedro, knock it off.”

  I do my best to swat him off without hurting him, but his pelvis is in full humping speed, taking it to my elbow.

  “Pedro humping your elbow again?” Dad asks and even though we aren’t face to face, I can hear the smile sitting on his face.

  “Little fucker, yeah he has a real problem humping elbows. He humps nothing else.”

  “Olivia, you always make me smile, even in the darkest of moments. Be safe on your date and don’t give up on love.”

  “Dad, will you order me a mail order groom if everything falls through?”

  “Jesus, Olivia you’re a nut and I love you. Talk to you later.”

  “Hey Dad, why did you call?”

  “Just to hear your voice.”

  I shrug my shoulders and stick my tongue out to Pervy Pedro. “I love you, too, Pops. Bye.”

  He hangs up his end of the phone. My dad never says bye to anyone on the phone, claiming he’s not going anywhere. It used to piss me off, but now I know it’s just one of his little quirks.

  I drag my ass off the couch, snag a rawhide for Pedro, and then make my way to my bathroom to get ready for the big night. Pedro lies at my feet, gnawing on his rawhide and growling at my pink toes when I wiggle them in his direction.

  I decided on my long hair being left down in loose curls, light make-up, and something not too teachery, which is hard when digging in my damn closet. Finally, I find a cute pair of skinny jeans, white lace blouse, and a black leather jacket to wear. At least this cute and somewhat sexy outfit will shut Scout up. Even feeling a bit adventurous, I slip into some high wedges that allow my hot pink toes to peek out.

  Now time to wait and you guessed it, my thoughts flow to Officer Oren. As cheesy as it may sound, his looks should be illegal. That strong jaw line, dark brown eyes, and perfectly trimmed hair nearly melted me that day, but it was something else about him. He was nice and down to earth, answering all the questions for the students with thought and care. He was humble. And one thing I’ve learned is most guys with killer looks like his aren’t humble or nice, but rather self-absorbed pricks.