Corrupting Chastity - Krista Wolf

One

CHASTITY

“Thank GOD.”

I breathed the words in tandem with the slamming of the door behind me, followed immediately by the ceremonial dropping of my keys on the kitchen counter. Two twists of the lock later, and that was it. Silence descended over my little apartment.

I was finally home.

“Another one bites the dust.”

Stepping out of my shoes was a religious experience. My feet felt so good, it was almost orgasmic.

Just one more random engagement party in the books.

At least this time it was Lexi, so I really didn’t mind. Alexa was one of my closest friends; a freshman year roommate who’d gone on to meet a truly amazing guy. They’d been dating just long enough that his proposal — hiding the ring-box in a snowman during their getaway trip to Vermont — had been perfect and adorable.

The whole thing was so sweet I didn’t know whether to cry tears of joy for her or throw up.

I spun through the kitchen, grabbing two Advils and pouring myself a glass of water. The nagging sensation of having to do something else lingered at the back of my mind, until finally it manifested itself:

Feed the cat.

For a half-second I actually turned in the direction of the little green feeding bowl, purely out of habit. Then my shoulder slumped, and the usual sadness washed over me.

The feeding bowl wasn’t there. It was tucked away — out of sight, out of mind — deep in the pantry. And that’s because Athena was gone.

I sighed heavily. “I miss you, you little punk.”

She’d passed away… what? Six months ago now? The little calico was my childhood pet. A cat who’d lived long enough to survive my teenage and college years, then come along to live with me afterward. My parent’s last parting gift before shipping off to Florida.

I downed my Advil and half my water, shaking off the sadness a little slower than usual. My dress danced around my calves as I fled to the bedroom. I began shrugging it off along the way, eager to get into something comfy.

Lexi. Engaged.

Holy fucking shit.

It was one thing to be twenty-five and single, without a prospect in sight. To watch your closest friends all fall in love and get married. To attend their weddings one by one, and listen to them talk about starting families.

But it was quite another to do it all as a virgin.

And… there it is.

I did have several other things though. Two failed relationships. A miserably failed business startup. Borderline personality disorder coupled with a history of pushing men away — all based on some vague fear of intimacy I’d picked up from God-knows-where.

At least my brains had gotten me far: a double major in computer science and information technology, followed by a masters of science in software engineering. I’d sacrificed my social life for academia. I’d dedicated still more years to a risky venture, one that would’ve set me up for life if only it had paid off.

Instead it had set me back down right where I’d started: lonely and alone, in a bleak field of nothingness. Watching. Enduring.

Seeing my friends and colleagues get happily hitched.

Oh come on now! I chastised myself. It’s not all bad.

I flopped back on the bed, enjoying the feel of my back against the cool mattress. At least I was free. Free to do what I wanted, to come and go whenever I pleased. Take tonight for instance. The party had been a good one, the food outstanding. The drinks had flowed — probably a little too much — and everyone involved had a fantastic time.

Especially when it came to Sierra and Eric.

The thought of what I’d seen sent a flash of heat rushing through me.

It was sometime toward the end of the night when I’d stumbled upon Lexi’s maid of honor and one of Donovan’s groomsmen, going at each other hot and heavy in the unisex bathroom. Until tonight the two members of the bridal party were complete strangers who’d never met. Right now Sierra and Eric were most likely hooking up at one or the other’s apartment, where they’d fuck like rabbits until morning. Hell, maybe they already were.

I stretched further into my bed, curling my wrists and ankles. They’d hook up at the wedding too, most likely. Maybe they’d be dating by then. Perhaps they’d even get engaged, and I’d end up being invited to that wedding, and the whole crazy cycle would begin anew.

And there you’ll be, frozen in time. In exactly the same place.

I sat up in