Page 32 of My Turn Petal
She’s enjoying herself.
Those genuine grins, I’m able to draw on her face, are worth everything we’re doing. It’s for me as much as it is for her. I’ve waited a lifetime for someone like Frankie. And like I said, I’m patient.
This feels pleasant and entertaining.
I don’t want to inflict more damage because of a lack of resources on my part, I want to forestall it. That’s why I’m educating myself on the subject.
“How would you describe playing your guitar?” her abrupt question pulls me out of my thoughts.
I answer, “How would you describe riding?”
“I asked first.” Her eyes and her accusing eyebrows assess my features.
“And I’m curious whether we think about the same thing or not.”
“That’s bullshit.” She exclaims. “You want to hear me first to say the same thing.”
I raise my brows, and reply, “I would never do such a thing. I will give you my honest answer later.”
“Later huh?”
“Scout’s honor.”
A burst of laughter erupts in unison from us both.
“Fine.” She takes a bite. “You scream through your guitar, I scream through my bike.”
“Precisely.” That is exactly how I would describe it. Reaching those high notes during a solo or whatever, is so fucking liberating that you feel like you scream through each note that you create.
“Favorite sex position?” she asks next.
“Really?”
“You watched me masturbating yesterday,” she pulls a wry smile. “And you will see me orgasm on more occasions so let’s not pretend we’re not kinky bastards who think about sex all the time.”
Fair enough.
I contemplate because I love so many, all I see is us in every fucking position, painting the park.
“I like eye contact. So you’d lie underneath me, I’d put your legs on my shoulder and slam into you while we kiss in between.”
“Aren’t you the romantic?” she remarks in her bubbly tone.
“Then I’d toss you around, take you from the back, come inside your throat, and let you ride me.” I asses her adorable expression. “And whenever you want I can chase you. Shove food into your mouth while you masturbate. Wear masks if that turns you on. And even use sharp objects to make it exciting.”
“I think I just died and gone to heaven… or hell.” She doesn’t blink. “Who are you?”
I chuckle to myself. “Can I ask you a personal question?” I ask while I’m pouring us some orange juice.
“Sure.” She continues to eat without a care in the world.
“Did you, I mean…” I calculate my words and start again. “Did someone ever penetrate you during sex?” that was wrong of me to ask that, “It sounds blatant but you get what I’m trying to say, right?”
Giggling to herself, “Yeah, chill. I’m not offended or anything.”
Exhaling a breath of relief, I focus my attention on her upcoming answer.
“I had a boyfriend when I was eighteen and we decided to have sex. I already knew I had some problems from my own experience.” She flattens the hem of her shirt. “So when we did it and he started penetrating me it only lasted like three minutes, maybe, before the panic started surfacing and burying me with it.”
