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the experience.
    I’m surprised and yet not surprised by how easily it comes. I am a complete novice, but I had always been very verbal.
    My words, and his, heighten my arousal.
    “Come for me Elle,” he’s breathless. “Let yourself go.”
    His words are my undoing.
    My body contracts.
    I am flying.
    It’s like that first night, only the blinding light keeps going and going.
    I hear him say something incoherent and push into me one last time. And then he collapses.
    We are both panting. And sticky from the effort.
    I never liked being sweaty, but this in-the-throes-of-passion sticky is very satisfying.
    He brings his face to mine and kisses me deeply.
    Rolling onto his side, he looks at me.
    I stare at the ceiling trying to regain my breath.
    “Was that your first time?” he asks abruptly.
    He’s looking at me seriously, “Because it felt like your first time…but I wasn’t getting the virgin vibe from you.”
    I blush and move to cover my face with my arms, “Yes.”
    He moves them away so he can see me. And then waits for me to explain.
    I feel unmasked. More naked.
    “It was my first everything,” I start.
    “The other night, I’d never even really made out with anyone before that,” I admit.
    Shut up ! That is way too much information.
    Now he’s going to think I’m going to fall in love with him or something.
    His expression is a mixture of confusion and something else, “Hey it isn’t a bad thing. In fact, you were really…uh… effective .”
    He looks earnest.
    “Seriously, you weren’t afraid of your body and you were very vocal. I liked it.” He grins widely.
    OK, I guess he is saying I was good? I hadn’t thought about being good or bad, just that I wanted him.
    “I mean it was total vanilla sex,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “and yet really, really hot.” He looks like admitting this fact surprises him.
    A thought occurs to me.
    I didn’t really know this man at all. Like not even his last name .
    The blood rises to my face.
    Geez Elle , isn’t that kind of slutty?
    No, no judgment I remind myself.
    I wanted something and I went out and got it. It was time to live for right now. For my pleasure.
    I still feel conflicted so I decide to find out more about this gorgeous person who had played such a key role in my fantasies.
    “Damon?”
    “Yeah?” he answers sleepily.
    “What’s your last name?”
    He looks over at me with a short laugh.
    “I thought you knew.”
    That was… strange .
    “Why would I know?” I blurt out.
    I hadn’t exactly been stalking him. I hadn’t, had I?
    Facebook didn’t count and I hadn’t been able to find him without his last name, anyway.
    “No, it’s just most people know my last name.”
    I can barely hear him.
    “Oh.”
    When he doesn’t say anything else, I persist. “Well…”
    “Well, what?” he answers drowsily.
    “Well, what is it?” Should I be getting nervous that he wasn’t giving me a straight answer?
    Was he related to the mob? Not that I would recognize any mob-esque names.
    “It’s Wright,” he finally admits, “and you’re Giselle. Giselle Roberts.”
    OK, why would I know that?
    Wait, how did he know my last name?
    Wright …something is clicking in place. This is the Ivy League. Could it be that Wright?
    I look around the room and realize how atypical this dorm actually is. With a sinking feeling I realize that, yes, yes it could be.
    “Wright…as in Wright Global , the financial firm?” I whisper hesitantly.
    It was one of the only firms that hadn’t been impacted by the recession. Analysts had explained that the founders had built the company ethically and with an eye towards diversification—not on the backs of the middle-class, or subprime loans.
    It had even served as a best practices model for the big banks in the aftermath.
    “Yup,” he was still barely there. “Although we’re much more than a financial firm.”
    “Holy crap…” I say under my breath.
    “What?” He opens his