“Does this bother you?” he asks me as he slides along the skin on the inside of my knee.
“I… I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“Just relax,” he tells me again. “Breathe. In and out.”
I try to do as he says, but it is hard. I keep going between shivering, wanting to lean into the sensation he’s bringing me and cringing, and wanting to run away. It’s only the gravity of his voice that keeps me pinned to the spot.
“Joanna, do you masturbate?”
he asks me gently.
“Do I… No,” I answer, gulping for air as the device drifts toward the very top of my thigh. I can feel it nudging against the hem of my panties.
He hesitates. “No? Why not? Is there a reason?”
“It’s just… I don’t know. There’s no point to it?” I answer distractedly as I try to keep from wriggling.
“Just close your eyes,” he tells me gently. “Just like before. Let it build. Let it wash over you.”
With my eyes closed, I focus on the feelings. One of his hands is wrapped around my knee, and the other is moving the vibrator slowly up and down my pussy, drifting along the fabric of my panties. With my eyes closed, I can still almost see. I see flowers. Complicated flowers like chrysanthemums or peonies. A million layers of creamy, pale pink petals, tightly closed.
“Have you ever had an orgasm?” his voice says, slipping into the space behind my closed eyes like a song.
The flowers multiply, growing in front of me. As one grows, another is born inside of it, then it grows, and then another is born inside of its tight pink center. Each flower replaces the one before it, swelling more quickly than the last.
“That’s good,” he murmurs, leaning forward to breathe near my ear. “Just stay with it.”
Just when I reach the crest of one wave of sensation, there is another. I feel my panties move to the side and more intense vibration sliding against my skin. The motions meet my needs. I barely have to think that I want something before it comes to me. It’s like having an itch scratched, just before it itches.
My heart begins to beat faster. I feel him shift and lean close to me, his cheek brushing against my cheek. That’s better. Having him here, having him close, salves another need. I don’t just want to be inspected, I want to be joined. I want to feel him in a way I’m not sure I have ever wanted to feel anyone.
“You’re doing it,” he whispers. “When it comes, don’t run away. Ride through it. Let it flow through you. I’m here for you. I will be right here, the whole time.”
The flowers bloom, trembling, ready to explode. My body shudders as heat comes over me quickly with a surge of physical urgency I have never known. Instinctively, I want to withdraw, to close back up, but he leans harder against me.
“Stay with me!” he commands in my ear as the vibrator batters my clit. “Let yourself come, Joanna. Let it happen... now!”
Gasping, I feel it wash through me like a lightning bolt. At once warm and wet, an explosive surge of sensation rakes through me like a tsunami. Following his direction, I let it batter me, hold me under, wash through me and then leave me breathless, trembling, awash in bliss.
My heart pounds and I feel consciousness slip away and slip back. He nuzzles my cheek and neck, brushing my hair away from my forehead.
“That’s it,” he chuckles proudly. “Right there. That’s it.”
“What? Really?” I gasp, amazed. “I did it?”
“You definitely did it,” he says with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. “I was happy to help.”
“Oh my gosh,” I sigh, trying to hold onto consciousness. “That was amazing.”
The sensation continues to surge through me, its intensity slipping away slightly with every wave. My muscles feel like they’re made of silicone, thick and overburdened by gravity. I feel like I could sink into the futon, or dissolve into a puddle. I wouldn’t regret a moment of it.
Now I know, I laugh to myself. This is it. This is what all the fuss is about.
How the hell did I ever live without this?
Chapter 12
Joe