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There was plenty of psychological evidence of the benefits of masturbation.
The touch and feel and orgasm…
What the brain did.
The pleasure reactors and then the…
Or that it just felt good to touch my clit and think about Joe.
I laughed again.
There was a knock at my hotel room door again.
I put my head back.
“What the fuck, Michael?” I whispered.
I walked to the door, ready to teach Michael that the wholebean thingwas masturbation, not cooking food.
I opened the door and had to look up.
How else would I be able to meet eyes with Joe?
“Joe,”I said. “What are you…”
Joe stepped toward me and grabbed my hips.
He lifted me up off my feet and walked himself into my room.
His right foot stuck out, keeping the door from closing.
He pulled me against him and his lips were suddenly against mine.
I gasped and grabbed for his face.
His tongue swept across my bottom lip and then into my mouth.
He moved into the room even more, letting the door shut.
He put me against a wall and kissed me even harder.
My body flooded with…everything.
I had the image of him touching between my legs, finding wetness way beyond just him kissing me.
I should have waited!
Joe pulled back from the kiss and placed me on my feet.
“Just wanted you to know what it’s like to be kissed the right way,” he said in his sexy, deep, rumbling voice.
I stood speechless.
Joe turned and exited my room.
The door clicked shut and my knees bent.
I slid down the wall until my butt hit the floor.
