“Yes.”
“There’stonsyou can do that doesn’t involve any kind of penetration. I started with mutual masturbation. It’s not much different to jacking yourself off and more fun to do it with someone you’re into. Frotting is fun too.”
“Frotting?”
“It’s where you rub your penises against each other until you orgasm.”
My face is getting hotter by the second, but I’m glad that Max is being so open. His casual attitude is comforting.
“Some guys get off on nipple rubbing and tweaking. You can stimulate your cock by sliding it between your partner’s thighs or arse cheeks. Use lube. Those are all fun ways to have non-penetrative sex.” He gives me a kind look. “Being into a guy doesn’t mean youhaveto be interested in doing anal or giving blow jobs. Plenty of women can’t stand giving blow jobs. Why would men be any different?”
I shrug.
“If you want my advice. Just do what feels right. Try to relax and have some fun with Adrian. Theonlything you have to plan is anal.Ifyou agree to try it together, start slow. Use a finger or a slim anal plug and lots of lube and work up to more. You might discover you both like it, that only one of you does, or that neither of you does. Any of those outcomes are okay. Joe and I have friends who are strictly non-penetrative in the bedroom. They have a great relationship and a great sex life doing all those other things I mentioned.”
I nod to show my understanding.
“Did any of that help?” Max asks.
“Yeah.” I breathe out. “Yeah, it did a lot. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You’ve got my number. I’m happy to have another chat if you need it.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have plans tonight? Please tell me Adrian cancelled his blind date?”
I laugh. “Yeah, he did. I’m still cooking, though.”
“Have fun andrelax.”
“Thanks, Max.”
“Any time. I mean it, Fitz.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter11
Adrian
While Fitz cooks, I make our flat look as romantic as possible. I might have experience with sex, but my knowledge of romance is…limited. Unlike Fitz, I’ve never had a relationship that could be called ‘long term’. I have had hook-ups and blind dates before—thank you, Vanessa—but never on Valentine’s Day. I’ve never once had to make a room look ‘romantic’.
I put the red table runner I bought on the table and then scatter the blossom petals from yesterday’s tree-felling job. I place some pillar candles in the centre of the table—two white, two red—and dim the lights. I have lots of blossom petals left. How would Fitz react if I put some on his bed? Or mine. We haven’t been fussy about whose bed we’ve ended up in during the week. I’d have to put them over both to be on the safe side. But would that be sending out the wrong message? I told Fitz we’d go slow. Do flower petals say, ‘I want to fuck you’? I decide against it, but I do sprinkle some over the sofa. That’s a lot less suggestive.
When I’m done, I join Fitz in the kitchen, putting my hands on his hips as I stand behind him.
“Food smells great.” I nuzzle his neck.
He leans against me while he stirs something on the hob. “It’s almost ready.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Go sit down. I’ll bring our starters through in a minute.”
I leave him to finish up and sit at the table. I’ve barely waited two minutes when he brings two plates to the table.
“Italian bruschetta,” he announces, putting them down.
