Page 71 of Say You Will

“Did your doctor warn you that sex could be a problem or…?”

“No. It’s just a knee-jerk reaction when anyone touches my hip. Especially my left.”

“Is this hurting you?”

“No. I’m a little sore there, and my knees, but it’s not bad.”

“You tell me if I do anything that has you worried. We don’t have to do anything at all, if you’d rather not.”

She nods. “I’ll tell you, but I want to. With you, I do.”

She hesitates, then asks. “Why haven’t you done this before?”

“I told you. I was waiting for you.”

She searches my eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Now neither one of us knows what we’re doing,” she says with a laugh.

“I’ve done some research.” I gather the fabric of her panties and give it a little tug, teasing her with it before I slide it to the side and get my first look at paradise.

I’ve heard the phrase “the scent of a woman” but had no idea what that really meant. There’s nothing to compare it to. My mouth waters for a taste of her. She’s entirely bare down here. So smooth that she either waxes or has had laser treatments. Her outer labia are glistening and damp, the seam closed, even with her legs parted for me. Using my thumbs, I press her open.

Everything about her sex is delicate. More so than I expected.

She looks like a pretty pink flower, and though I fall within normal parameters in terms of my size, my cock looks and feels like a monstrous battering ram in comparison. Her vaginal opening is smaller than I thought it would be. The mental image of her body stretching to make room for my cock has me fighting not to come in my pants.

We have to fit. I will fuckingmakeit fit, and I’ll make sure it feels good when it does. If that means I have to give her fifteen orgasms and a perineal massage first, then that’s what’s going to happen.

Her clitoris peeks from beneath its hood, and I try to remember the techniques most likely to bring her to climax. No hurry. Women take longer to get there than men. These things take time, and we’ve got hours.

I draw a figure eight with my tongue. She moans and grinds up against me. I work her clit until my jaw needs a rest and she’s panting, then I move further down and press my tongue into her opening.

She’s slippery, her wetness coating my chin and cheeks. I’m dying of thirst, and she’s my oasis. I can barely get my tongue in an inch, but that’s fine. I set up a counterclockwise rhythm with my thumb on the outer edge of her clit and fuck her with just the tip of my tongue. I’m so turned on by the feel and taste of her that it’s becoming impossible to concentrate on her and fight my own orgasm at the same time. Coming now would only help my stamina later when I’m inside her.

The thought of her pussy squeezing my cock the way she’s squeezing my tongue sends me over the edge, just as Franki’s body shakes and jerks against me. I keep going until she nudges my head. “No more.”

I lift to look at her. “Was that an orgasm? Or are you not enjoying this?”

Breathless, she says, “Orgasm.”

I glance at the clock on the bedside table. “That took eleven minutes. I expected closer to half an hour.”

She slaps her hands over her face. “Way to turn this clinical, Henry.”

“I’m covered in your pussy juice, and I ejaculated in my sweats.” I slide up over her, pulling her hands away from her face, to take her mouth with mine. “Do I taste clinical to you?”

When I lift my head to evaluate her reaction, I’m gratified by the glazed expression in her eyes. She grinds against my thigh, her face and chest flushed with the proof of her pleasure.

“You finished in your pants?” she asks.

“I’m far fromfinished.”

“Does that mean you were into it? You didn’t mind doing that?”

I don’t like the insecurity in her voice. She needs something from me, and I’m failing her. When I rub my thumb over her bottom lip, she sucks it into her mouth, and it feels like she’s sucking my cock. That’s the intensity of this moment. “I’ve never been more turned on by anything in my life.”

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