SYNOPSIS
Fifteen Contestants, Twelve Episodes & One Very Big O
When my best friend Allie posted about my need for an inaugural O on a prominent dating website it was meant to be a joke.
A joke she was supposed to delete.
But her post started an internet and media frenzy and, when I was offered fifty thousand dollars to star in my own reality competition show, I had no choice but to say yes.
The Orgasm Virgin was supposed to help me meet a carnal companion who could finally bring me to climax.
Unfortunately, the one person I want to win the undying allegiance of my, well, you know, can’t be in the running at all.
Now in an L.A. mansion with fifteen very persuasive contestants vying for my attention and one undeniably sexy Production Assistant secretly getting it all the word ACTION has a whole new meaning…
Candy Sloane is an erotica author and the fictional creation of Lisa Burstein from the New Adult novel Sneaking Candy. The Orgasm Virgin is her debut novel.
Author's Note: This book is about sex. There are men kissing women, women kissing women, and men kissing lady parts. It is not meant for readers under eighteen, or my mother.
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EXCERPT
In my room later, soaking in a much-needed silky vanilla bubble bath and relishing the one area besides the toilet that was camera and microphone free on this reality show, I lay back. The bubbles in the bath covering my ears, soft popping noises enveloped me as I closed my eyes and breathed out.
At least there was always a bath to escape to.
I exhaled again and sunk my head lower, so the water danced against my lips. The cordless phone hanging on the wall beside the bathtub rang.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I ignored it, exhaling louder, trying to counteract its insistent bell.
It stopped and my body relaxed, just the sound of water tinkling all around me, but in seconds it started ringing again. I ducked my head all the way under, anything to shut it up. It was muffled by the bath, but I could still hear it.
I jumped out of the tub, attempting not to kill myself by slipping on the marble floor. I wrenched it from the wall.
"What?"
"The question is who?"
Scott.
"Hi, V," he said.
"Hi," I replied, dripping wet. I reached for a soft white towel and wrapped myself up.
"I know we have some unfinished business," he said, "and since I can’t come over I thought I’d call."
"Talking isn’t really what I had in mind," I said, my voice going low and husky.
"I know, but you’d be amazed what the right words can do."
Didn’t I know that.
"Aren’t the lines tapped?"
He laughed. "No, that would be illegal."
At least I hadn’t signed away that small bit of privacy in my contract for the show.
"How’s your bath?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" My eyes darted everywhere, looking for cameras.
"I could tell from the motion detectors in your room that you were in the bath," he said. "Camera, mic free, and naked, it was hard to resist giving you a call."
Heat overwhelmed me, so severe it stopped my breath. If it were anyone else it would have been creepy, but Scott made it seem sweet and outrageously sexy. As a production assistant on the show there were probably millions of other things he needed to be doing, but he’d decided instead to check up on me. By calling, he’d chosen the only way he could really talk to me in this insane asylum of a reality show I’d checked myself into.
"It was pretty nice until I got interrupted," I smiled.
"I guess I need to make that interruption worth your while. Is your bathroom door closed?"
"You mean you can’t tell?" I asked, gently gliding my fingers along my collarbone.
"Smart-ass," he replied. "Get back in the bath."
"With the phone?"
"Live a little," he chuckled. "Slide your sexy body back into that bathtub."
I did as he said. His voice was suddenly hotter than any touch.
"Cradle the phone on your shoulder. I want to have you able to use both your hands."
I obeyed.
"Caress yourself slowly, starting at your tits, playing with your nipples and tracing down."
"You’re not wasting any time," I said, my hands becoming his. The heat of the water was nothing compared to the lava running through my bloodstream as I teased my breasts. "Can I go lower?" I managed to whisper.
"One direction at a time," he said. "I want those nipples so hard they are shrieking."
"Okay," I swirled my middle finger in blindingly burning circles around each nipple until they were throbbing.
"Slip your hands down to your stomach," he said, "and don’t you dare go any lower. I’ll know from your breathing."
"I’m there," I said, pressing my fingers into my pubic bone like I was slamming the brakes on a car.
"How badly do you want to touch yourself?"
My fingers quivered. "So, so badly."
"You need to wait."
"I can’t," I begged, "I can’t wait anymore." Those were the words I had been keeping inside, and I was sharing them with Scott. Telling him I needed it, wanted it. Was going to do whatever I had to do to get it.
He smacked his lips together in satisfaction. "Just another second—get drunk on that anticipation, V."
I dug my fingernails into my skin so hard I could feel welts starting to form.
"Please, Scott," I said.
"Those are the magic words," he sighed. "Now you can play with yourself."
I eased my fingers down. I was sopping wet even in the water.
"Take one hand and spread until you can get right at your clit."
I moaned.
"Slick your pointer finger against it, slowly, very slowly," he instructed.
I moaned again.
"Slowly, I said."
I managed to measure my movements, but I couldn’t keep myself from whimpering in delight again.
"Slower, V, this is my movie. Your pleasure escalates at my pace. I control when you come."
"Okay," I breathed, slowing slightly.
"Stick one of your fingers inside, but keep rubbing yourself."
"Only one?"
"Make it two," he bargained, "I want you to fuck yourself good and hard."
I arched my back involuntarily, pressing against my hand as I slid two fingers in.
"Now a little faster. You’re going to come like my mouth is on you."
I could feel the pressure building, the tightness inside me about to go. I’d masturbated before, but never like this. Never with a man’s voice guiding me—Scott’s voice guiding me. Scott’s words making me frantic to fuck myself good and hard.
"Thrust those fingers in deeper and keep rubbing that clit."
My body was on fire. My breathing so erratic I felt faint. Pleasure slipped up from my toes to the tips of my hair, again and again. It almost felt like being electrocuted, my body trembling involuntarily with each shock. I wailed and collapsed against the back of the tub, every part of me tingling as I came.
"Sounds like I did my job."
"Oh yeah," I replied, barely able to breathe. "You deserve a raise."
"Does that make up for the other night?"
"For now," I said, forcing my hand against my pubic bone until it ached.
"Okay," he said. "Even though my cock is throbbing, I didn’t touch myself at all. I only focused on you. Now we’re even."
"Let me help you take care of that, then we’ll really be even," I said, noticing that the bath water had grown cold.
"I want to hold off until it’s your hands on me, my hands on you, my cock tearing you in two."
"Come over," I said.
"Soon," he replied. "And V, if you liked that—just wait."
Even though it was only eight more days, eight more episodes we had to film before he and I could really be together, I didn’t think I could.
ABOUT CANDY SLOANE
Bio: Naughty Author of Naughty Books. My debut novel The Reality O is out NOW & it's NAUGHTY. I heart hot guys and making my readers blush!
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