Oral wasn’t something Mike enjoyed.
It was rushed.Half-hearted.Rare.
I learned early that my pleasure was secondary.
Optional.
Something to apologize for instead of expect.
The memories flicker in the back of my mind, and instinctively, I start to draw my legs inward.
J.T.doesn’t force me.
He doesn’t scold.
He simply steadies me.
His hands are warm and firm against my thighs when he squeezes them.
Then, his eyes lift to mine.
“Trust me,” he says.
Two words.
Not an order.
A promise.
And God help me, I want to.
I want to believe him.
I want to step into this without flinching.
So I let my legs fall open again.
Not in surrender.
In choice.
His chest rumbles low in approval, and the sound shoots straight through me.
I don’t know what I did to garner his attention.I only know this manseesme.
He wants me exactly as I am.Exactly like this.
And that already makes him different,special.
There’s no embarrassment in the way he looks at me.
No tolerance.
Only appreciation.
Desire.
Focus.
