“You don’t have to thank me, Ruth.”
“I want to. I want you to teach me, Ev. I don’t exactly have the kind of experience other women my age have. I need—I want you to teach me. I want to learn what feels good and I want to know how to make you feel good, and—”
I can’t stand it anymore. I lean down and silence her with a kiss, rolling my body over hers until we’re pressed together from head to toe. Her skin heats up, flushing pink as she returns my kiss eagerly, and my hands grip her hips, sliding beneath the T-shirt she stole from my dresser before we slept.
“I think you know what feels good,” I murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw. “I think you’re the one who ought to be teaching me.” Ruth stills mid-shoulder roll, hands suddenly stopping their journey up and down my ribs.
“It’s your turn, baby girl,” I say. I lift my head from her face, planting one last kiss square on her lips before rolling off of her. “Teach me how you make yourself feel good. I want to know what you do at home when you think of me.”
“Y-you’re not going to help me?”
I’m settling on my knees, sitting back on my heels as she speaks. I answer with a smile. “Nope. You’re going to teach, baby girl; I’m going to watch and learn.”
Ruth shuffles around, arranging the pillows behind her head and shoulders so she’s a little more upright. She’s still clothed, almost entirely covered by the T-shirt that hangs halfway down her thighs, but the sight of her as she settles into my bed, knees up, her beautiful pussy just out of reach, has my cock throbbing, aching to be touched. But I settle back on my heels, keeping my hands on my thighs, and wait patiently.
“I-I don’t know where—”
“Start at the beginning, honey,” I coach. “What gets you wet?”
“You,” she admits, turning her face into her shoulder with a sheepish smile. “Talking to you on FaceTime.”
Pride blooms in my chest, and a little more in my cock, too.
“So, when we hang up…”
Her hands move to her tits, covering them over the cotton shirt. She squeezes, pressing them together, before rolling her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. Her knees open wider, giving me the perfect view of her pussy, soaked and glistening, and a quiet moan falls from my lips unbidden as, involuntarily, I reach for my cock.
“What do you do next?” I ask. I lick my lips, my mouth dry. “Talk me through it, honey. Show me what you like to do.”
“I like to—” she gasps, pressing her head back into the pillows. “I like to imagine these are your hands on me.”
I exhale heavily, and a quiet whimper comes with it. This beautiful, smart, goddess of a woman likes to touch herself and imagine it’s me? My cock throbs in my hand, and I might come just from that knowledge alone.
Ruth slides one hand lower, lifting the hem of the shirt she’s wearing and baring herself to me. She slides one finger through the wetness between her thighs, along her slit, gathering the evidence of her arousal before circling her clit once, twice—
“Ev,” she whispers. “Ev.”
“You like to play with your clit, baby girl?” I work my hand up and down my shaft slowly, matching my pace to Ruth’s as she teases herself. “Does that do it for you?”
Ruth drops her other hand from her chest and pushes it between her legs, lifting her hips and pushing two fingers inside herself. Fuck, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a sexier sight than Ruth Bevan pleasuring herself in front of me, and knowing it’s my hands she’s thinking of.
“I usually use my vibrator for this part,” she says, gasping a little as she works her fingers in and out. “But now that—after we—after—I don’t know if it’s gonna be enough.” Her hips buck off the bed as she twists her wrist, pushing her fingers as deep as they’ll go. My breath comes in quick bursts as my own hand quickens, still matching Ruth’s pace.
“It’s the vibrator that gets you off, huh?”
“I like to imagine what it would be like if it was you.”
“Fuck, baby girl.” There are no fireworks, no choir of angels. I simply burst out of my skin. My vision greys and the world tilts off-axis as I come all over my hand and my stomach, and I fall forward, barely catching myself on my free hand before I land face-first between Ruth’s legs.
She’s gasping my name, writhing as her toes curl, fingers still working herself over until the waves of pleasure begin to subside, and a vaguely hysterical laugh bubbles from her throat. I reach for a tissue from my nightstand and clean up the worst of the mess before dropping into place beside her.
I trace a line down her throat: hot, open-mouthed kisses that leave her panting again, with a blissed-out smile curving her lips and a pretty pink blush colouring her skin.
“I fear I may never be the same,” she says airily. I nip at the skin in the hollow of her collarbones. “You may have unleashed some kind of demon in me.”
“No, baby, that was my cock.” My hands roam her body, helpless to resist, desperate to touch every inch of her beautiful, soft skin.
“Has anyone ever fucked you here, baby girl?” I press my index finger against the tight ring of muscle between her cheeks.
