Page 32 of The Love Playbook

Humming thoughtfully, I return my attention to my fingers gently stroking up and down over her softest parts. “So you mean I could just keep doing this for as long as I like regardless of what you’re asking for?”

Another chuckle, this one more rueful. “Of course you could. Eventually I might decide you’re a bit of a sadist though.”

I haven’t ever thought of myself as a sadist, but the image of Autumn writhing and begging for … what exactly I’m not sure does hold a certain appeal. Probably that will have to wait until I actually know what I’m doing, though.

For now, I’ll follow her instructions. “So you like it when I do this?” I spread her inner lips with one of my fingers, following the silky skin up to where her clitoris peeks out of its hood. But I don’t touch there, just moving up and down, circling her opening.

She hums her agreement, her hips shifting.

Feeling bold, I slip my finger inside her. It goes in easily. She’s slick and ready, and she gasps at the intrusion, her hips tilting as though inviting me in farther.

Slowly, I slide my finger in as far as I can, then withdraw partway.

“That’s nice. If you face your palm up and rub, it’ll feel even nicer.”

Eyebrows raised, I follow her instructions, rubbing my finger side to side.

Her brows furrow, and she shakes her head in a quick negative. “More like this.” She holds up a hand and crooks her finger like she’s telling me to come closer.

I start to lean forward when I realize that’s what she wants me to do. Inside her. Right.

Looking down—not that I can see what my finger’s doing inside her body, but whatever—I do as she asks, starting off slow, watching the way her body seems to have swallowed my finger like it’s nothing.

She lets out another soft sound, her hips moving, and then tilting again as we’ve apparently found the magic place that makes her feel really good. “Yes,” she whispers. “There. Keep doing that.”

I think I will, actually. Glancing up at her face, I take in her flushed cheeks, parted lips, hair everywhere. I never want to forget this. I almost wish I could take a picture, even though I know that would not be okay. It wouldn’t be to share anywhere, though. Just for me. So I can look back at this and remember this moment, these feelings.

Some part of me worried I’d be embarrassed. That I’d fumble around and be terrible. And who could blame me? I really have no idea what I’m doing.

But like Autumn said, the key is to pay attention. It’s not difficult, especially with someone as responsive and communicative as she is.

“I really wish you would lick my pussy right now,” she whispers, and the words make me blush.

Yup. Blushing. In the middle of fingering Autumn. Because she wants me to lick her pussy.

But that’s why we’re here, right? I said I wanted to. And I do. I’m just … once again, I’m worried I’ll screw it up somehow.

This part’s going okay, though. Surely it can’t be any more difficult?

Lowering my head, I lick from where my finger disappears inside her up to her clit, a long swipe like I’m licking an ice cream cone.

“Mmm. Yeah. Do that again.”

So I do. Again and again, while continuing to rub the front inside wall of her pussy.

“My clit,” she whispers, her hips shifting restlessly. “Suck on my clit. Please.”

So polite. I love it.

First I bathe her clit with my tongue, which seems to be the right choice even though she actually told me to suck on it. When I wrap my lips around it and do as she said, her whole body jolts.

Damn.

That’s amazing. So hot. So sexy.

Swirling my tongue over her clit again, I suck on it once more.

Her hands sink into my hair, holding on, keeping me in place—as though I had any intention of moving. I suck and lick and keep my attention focused on her clit. Her thighs jump and tense against my shoulders, her slick flesh moving under my tongue, my finger starting to get tired.

---