“It’s definitely a yes. But for your first time, I don’t want you to worry about what you’re doing. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”
I nod. “Okay. That makes sense.”
He begins with a light kiss on my lips, then moves down to myneck. I grab his forearms tight, as he sucks in places I didn’t realize would ever have the capacity to contribute to the wet between my legs.
He kisses and sucks my left nipple through the lace of my bra. “That—” I begin, then stop. What if it’s not sexy to tell him when something doesn’t feel right?
He lifts his head to look up at me. “Tell me.”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.” He raises his eyebrow at me in a silly way, with one pointing this way and one looking that way, like a cartoon or something. I relax and laugh. “Just…it hurts a little bit, with the lace there. It’s not the most comfortable fabric…”
“Got it.” He lowers the straps down, exposing my breasts to the cool air. I feel my nipples pucker even more. They must look like the most insane pencil eraser nips of all time.
This time, he moves to my right breast, and he begins much slower, lapping me up with languid, hot swipes of his tongue. I can feel the electric connection between my nipples and clit, and I’m certain the comforter is soaked between my legs, right through my underwear.
He moves toward the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. By now I’m squirming and moaning with abandon. I feel as though if I reached down and barely touched myself, I’d come hard enough to break the space-time continuum. In fact, I move my hand to do exactly that, but he stops me. “Don’t you want me to suck it?” he asks, wiggling himself farther down the bed, until I can feel his warm breath over my right hip. “Don’t you want me to suck your clit till you come all over my face?”
I inhale shakily. “Are you enjoying this?”
He laughs and I can feel the vibrations of his voice betweenmy legs. “I’m pretty sure I’m harder than I was twenty minutes ago.”
I can barely consider what he’s saying. I’m so horny, I feel like I might burst into flames. I want to squeeze my thighs together, but I can’t, since my legs are spread for him. I squirm, trying to somehow get pressure where I need it the most.
“You need some friction, huh?”
“Please,” I moan. And then he does something I was never expecting. He pulls my G-string up between my legs, until the fabric is pulling right against my clit.
I groan as the pleasure shoots up into my belly. He pulls my underwear this way and that, using it to grind against my slit, getting me fairly close to orgasm without touching me with his hands or mouth at all.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy right now,” he murmurs, shifting my underwear even more. “I wish you could see yourself. God. You’re so wet. You’re so fucking wet.” As though on cue, I hear slick sounds emanating from where the underwear is sliding against me.
“Oh my God,” I whisper as he pulls the panties from my slit and then slides them right to the side and gives me one long, hot lick, from my opening all the way up to my clit. He does it again, and again, and the last time he holds his face still so I’m forced to grind myself against his tongue.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls back with a smile as I whimper. “I said I wasn’t going to make you do any work.”
I’m so far gone, the words out of his mouth have barely any meaning to me. “Make me come. Adam. Please. I need to come. I need it.”
“On it.” He pushes his fingers under the waistband of myunderwear and pulls the whole thing down my legs, tossing it somewhere behind him. He lifts my legs, placing a thigh on each of his shoulders, and dives in. He laps, licks, and sucks at me. I’m a quivering mess. Sounds are coming out of me that I’m not sure any human has made before, and I find that I can’t bring myself to care.
And then Adam reaches up and finds my nipples, and he teases my nipples in tune with the way he tongues my clit. When he flicks at them with his fingers, he does the same lower with his tongue. When he slides his warm tongue over my clit, he does the same with his warm thumbs above.
And when he pinches and pulls my nipples as he closes his lips around my clit and sucks, I can’t hold back anymore, not that I was really trying to.
I moan. My body jerks this way and that, as though this orgasm is a wrathful spirit that possesses me for one long, glorious minute. And it really does last a while. Just when I think it might be finished, a wave of pleasure crests again, and I find myself arching my back so hard, I idly wonder if I can somehow break it from having too powerful an orgasm.
By the time it’s done, I feel even more spent than Adam was after I gave him a hand job. Catatonic was how he seemed, but feeling it myself, I want to sayon the glorious edge of deathis closer to the truth. I feel as though I just experienced so much pleasure, I touched the World of the Dead, the World of Ghosts, all of them, all of them, like some little piece of me exploded and made brief appearances in all the worlds and all the spaces between the worlds. It was like falling down, spending eight years in the woods, and returning, but as I am now, a woman, and all in a single, mind-blowing minute, thanks to Adam’s clever fingers and tongue.
25
When he pulls back, Ican tell that he is definitely satisfied with his work. He goes to the bathroom and comes back. “Clean washcloths?”
“Mirror,” I say, and even though it comes out more like “Moo,” as in cow, he understands. I roll up all my clean washcloths and stack them behind the mirror, because I like any prescriptions and skincare items to be where I can see them and remember that they exist—so those remain on my sink, lined up in a neat row.
He returns and the washcloth is steaming and feels so good on my inner thighs and between them. He lifts my hips to get to all the places where the, ah, moisture had gotten, and I want to blush when I remember what he said he wanted to do next. Put his tongue—his very, very talented tongue—backthere.
As intrigued as I am at the prospect of experiencing that particular sexual act, I’m relieved when he says, “Let me get us some water,” and disappears down the stairs. I’m a little too…exhausted? Overstimulated? One of those descriptions, or maybesome combination of the two, to rush right into the second act of…sex.
It hits me at once. I just had sex with Adam! Adam and I totally just gave each other orgasms.
