Page 99 of Lovebug
Geez, this is soooo intimate. You’d think I’d be shy with him, but surprisingly, I’m one hundred percent not. His mouth seems committed to tracing a path down the entire length of my body and all I can focus on is how much I want him to continue his delicious descent.
I let out another little moan.
“You’re right, you’re right,” he says. “I should be more specific,” his voice rumbles right over my heart as he uses my words from before. “The manubrium…” He places a soft kiss at the top of my sternum. “The body…” Another kiss a bit lower. “And the xiphoid process.” He kisses that tiny place where the rib cage fans out. I feel actual flutters in my belly
“Ooh, listen to you,” I say, impressed in more ways than one.
“Yoga teacher training, remember? We studied all the anatomy.”
“All the anatomy?” I ask, surprising myself with the amount of sass and innuendo I’m able to send back his way.
He releases me from the tight protective hold he’s had me in and steadies me on my feet. Just as I stand to my full height he lowers to his knees and slides his big hands along my sides on his way down.
Ohmygod, this big, burly beautiful man is on his knees.
In front of me.
He peers upward, locks his eyes with mine, and says, “Yes, ma’am.Allthe anatomy.”
Then he places his tongue at the apex of my thighs and proceeds to create what only can be described as magic. Utter and complete magic.
So basically, you know, this is turning out to be just another typical day in the life of Mabel McGonigle.
“Wow. Oh my God, wow.”
“You like?” He rumbles from below.
“Yessssss. I do. Oh, my God, I doooooooooo!”
“Good.” He chuckles.
“Oh, gosh, I need to be quieter. WHY CAN’T I BE QUIETER!?”
“It’s okay, no one can hear us down here,” he assures me. “And there’s no reason for anyone to wander down this way. All the booths and events are up by the main pavilion.”
“Okay, good good good.” I take a moment to luxuriate in the exquisite sensations he’s creating in me. But then, I can’t help but ask, “How do you think this all started?”
“Well… you approached me on the trail and invited me into a pyramid scheme and—”
“No, I mean this. What you’re doing to me right now. The funilingous. Who do you think was the first person to figure this out? Do you think the cavemen and cavewomen were busy doing cave things, and then they suddenly thought, ‘Hey, you know what might be an interesting experiment’?”
Up until this point, he’s been doing a masterful job of alternating between pleasuring and conversing, conversing and pleasuring. But sadly, at this point, he takes a full-on pause from the pleasuring, sits back on his heels, and says, “Sorry—did you just sayfunilingus?
“I did,” I breathe. “I just really dislike the word cunt. Ooooohhhhhh.” I shudder. “Sorry. I can’t really say the word cunt—oooooohhhh—without shuddering. I thought I was over the shudder thing, but I guess not. It’s a reaction I’ve always had to words and people I find intimidating. Anyway, back to cunt—oooooooooh. The word itself is just a bit rude, don’t you think? Unless you’re British of course, then you can call all your friends and family and coworkers cunts to your heart’s content, and no one bats an eyelash. Wow, I made it through that one without a shudder. Progress!” I reach my hand out and high-five him. “But here in America, I just think it carries quite a connotation.” I’m pretty sure I’m overexplaining at this point, so I take a deep breath to recalibrate. ”Feel free to continue what you were doing. Because holy fuck I was enjoying it.”
“Oh, I will, and listen, I appreciate the discourse on how Americans and Brits differ in their use of that potentially inflammatory or celebratory word, depending on how it’s used. I guess I’m just confused about what that has to do with—Ohhhhh, okay.” I practically see the light bulb go on in his eyes. “The, uh…activitywe were engaged in a moment ago—one I hope to resume in a matter of seconds—out of curiosity, how do you think that word is pronounced?”
“Cuntiligus,” I respond with confidence.
Wow, this guy seems so experienced, but apparently, he doesn’t know the basics.
He cracks up laughing. His mouth rests against my belly as he wraps his arms around me, so I feel the vibration of his laughter throughout my entire body. “You crack me the hell up, woman.”
“What’s so funny?” We’re both grown-ups in this adult shower situation, yeah? Why my using a technical term like cuntilingous is inspiring such raucous laughter in him is beyond me.
He pulls back again and looks at me.
“It’s actuallycunnilingus, notcuntilingus.” He breaks this news to me with a barely concealed grin.
