I did not know my body could be wet again so soon. It is. Soaking. The thought of what I have asked for has done it. The thought of her coming back down the hall with a small bottle in her hand and the strap still on her hips. The thought of her opening me with her fingers. The thought of her sliding the silicone in slow.
I feel my own want go down through me like a low tide.
“Evangeline,” I hear behind me.
"Yes."
"Eyes closed. Cheek on the wood. Relax your body.”
"Yes."
---
She kneels.
I feel the boards take her weight. I feel her at the back of me. She puts a hand on the inside of one of my thighs and she lifts it half an inch, asking. I lift. She presses my thigh open a little wider. I feel cool air on the wet at the back of me.
"I'm going to use a lot," she says.
"Yes."
"You'll feel it cold."
"Yes."
"Tell me if anything hurts."
"Yes."
I hear the cap of a small bottle. I hear a soft slick sound. She puts her hand low. She slides her finger down between the cheeks of me, slow, slick, no pressure yet. She comes to where she is going. She pauses at me.
"Breathe."
I breathe.
"Out."
I breathe out.
She presses with the pad of her finger.
The pressure is not what I expected. The pressure is small and slick and warm. She is patient. She is the same patient she was at the bath. She does not push. She rests against me. She lets the muscle decide. The muscle gives a little. She presses a little more. She slides the tip of her finger inside.
I make a small sound.
"Okay?" she says.
"Yes.”
I am ok. It feels intense, erotic and overwhelming in a good way.
"Talk to me."
"Tight."
"Yes."
"Good tight.”
