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I start counting in my head, trying to distract myself, but all that means is that I’m aware it takes this gorgeous guy less than one minute to make me come.
He obviously feels the approach of my orgasm because he covers my clit with his mouth and sucks. I curl my toes and arch my back as the pulses hit, and cry out, gasping with each magnificent clench of my muscles, until I finally fall back with a groan.
Lifting his head, he blows lightly on my tender flesh. Then he lowers his head again and flicks his tongue, laughing as my body jerks.
Placing kisses as he goes, he moves up the bed to lie beside me, propping his head on a hand. “This is called the refractory period,” he says. “The recovery phase between orgasms. It’s shorter for women than for men.”
I look into his eyes, still reeling from the pleasure he gave me so casually. “How long?”
“Usually minutes or even seconds for women.”
“And for you?”
He shrugs. “Fifteen, twenty minutes? Maybe more now. I’m getting old.” He smiles and trails a finger down between my breasts before teasing a nipple with a finger. “Don’t want you to cool all the way down,” he states with a smirk.
I study his face, filled with wonder. He’s so handsome and charismatic. I can’t believe his ex let him go. What a stupid, stupid woman.
“Penny for them,” he says, sliding his hand down between my legs.
I push it away. “You promised you’d remove your underwear.”
“I did.” He rolls onto his back, lifts the elastic over his erection, and slides them off. Then he rolls back to face me and props his head on a hand.
He’s naked. O. M. F. G.
Occasionally I’ve ventured onto a porn site because I’ve been so curious about sex, so I know what guys look like, and how sex works. But it’s the first time I’ve seen a man naked in real life.
“Do you mind me looking?” I ask shyly.
“As long as you don’t laugh.”
I give him a wry look. Laughter is the furthest thing from my mind right now. “Can I touch you?”
“Help yourself.” He shifts onto his back and tucks his arms under his head.
I feast my eyes on his magnificent body. He has an attractive scatter of hair across his chest. On his taut abdomen, it narrows to a thin trail that deliberately leads my gaze to the thicker patch on his groin, from which emerges his impressive erection.
I stare at it, then lower my hand and run a finger up from the base to the tip. His eyelids lower slowly, then lift again.
“You’re not circumcised,” I observe.
“No. Any porn you’ve watched is probably made in the States. Eighty percent of men are circumcised there. Only twenty percent here.”
“I didn’t know that.” I’m not sure how to touch him. “Show me how it works.”
He lowers a hand and strokes himself a few times, showing me how the foreskin slides back to reveal the head, then forward again to cover it. Then he returns his hands behind his head and his eyes meet mine. Keeping my gaze on his, I lift a hand and lick from the heel of my hand to my fingertips, the same way I’ve seen girls do online. His eyebrows lift a little. Then I lower my gaze to his erection and close my hand around it.
It’s firmer than I thought it would be, and long, despite his protestation that he’s only average. I can feel the veins beneath the soft skin, and I study the head as I stroke him, loving the way it swells. Intrigued by the tip, I lower my head and brush my tongue over it.
“Whoa, fuck,” he says.
I lift my head. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist it.”
He blinks. “No, it’s fine. I had my eyes closed. I wasn’t expecting you to do it, that’s all.”
“Why not?”
“Because… not all women like doing it.”
