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“I don’t know.” No one had ever mentioned it. Speaking of sex was so taboo, even naughty Mrs. Hoffman stopped short of sharing details of the liaisons she’d alluded to. “I don’t know anything about this sort of stuff.”
“It’s okay. I tell what you want to know. Wet helps make sex easier. Gives smell, so partners know you interest.”
Was that where the sugar-cinnamon scent pervading the room came from? Flicking her gaze to meet Jemi’s, Irene leaned forward and sniffed. It was stronger the closer she got to his maleness.
“You smell like a dessert.” She blushed to hear herself say such a thing.
“I enjoy you smell too. And taste.” His grin was a funny cross between lechery and a boy’s innocent delight.
“You don’t mind…your mouth there?”
“No. Why? Is favorite place for mouth.”
Rusp and Sherv snickered agreement. Focusing on Jemi and his lesson, Irene had almost forgotten they were there. Watching her touch a man’s lust, no less
“I was taught it’s bad. Sex is only for making babies, according to the Church.”
Jemi’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “You want baby?”
“No. Sweet prophets, no.” The idea of what would happen should they get her pregnant, what Earth would do, sent ice through her veins.
“No happen with us.” Rusp waved his hand dismissively. “Know how little chance of it is? We different species.”
“You said Kalquor ask Earth to test for it,” Sherv said. His expression was abruptly tense.
“Kalquor ask every Galactic Council species to test, not just Earth. I think they desperate. We must be go extinct soon.” Rusp blew an unhappy sound. “Is sad to think.”
“It is sad.” Irene hated the idea their people might someday disappear. Based on her interactions with Clan Sherv, she thought Kalquorians were amazing. Nonetheless, Rusp was right. There was little chance she could bear a child by them. Relief filled her.
She realized she still held Jemi’s shaft. Had she actually forgotten for a few seconds? She could hardly believe it, but in the rush of panic over potential pregnancy, she had.
It somehow didn’t seem quite as intimidating in the wake of momentary terror. “Does it feel good for me to touch you this way?”
“Very good. Want to make better?”
“Okay.”
She expected him to put himself in her and have sex at her agreement. Instead, he moved her hand up and down his shaft, her fingers gliding easily over the livid flesh thanks to his wetness. Jemi’s eyelids fluttered, and he grew stiffer in her hand. “Yes. Much better. Hold tighter.”
Irene was worried she could hurt him, but she squeezed. His answer was a groan, his expression drifting into euphoria.
He appreciated what she was doing. She was giving him the sensations he’d offered her. A sense of gratification filled her to offer him bliss. The Church insisted sex was a wife’s duty to her husband. Nothing about sensual gratification had been discussed, though it was plain most men and Mrs. Hoffman had found it so.
The scent Jemi put off fascinated her. He’d kissed her where she’d never guessed someone would. Would he enjoy her doing the same to her? Would she?
Hardly believing her urge to try, she asked. “Is it normal for me to do to you what you did to me? With my mouth?”
His grin answered before he did. “Very normal. Most normal thing ever.”
She remained unsure, but his attitude said he would welcome it. “What if I don’t find it…okay?”
“Then you don’t do it. Sex is pleasure, and pleasure is many acts. Each person likes different play.”
His lack of judgment and easy acceptance of her potentially refusing to give him what he’d given her was a happy surprise. “I only do what I want?”
“No fun for me if you don’t want. Why I say you do what not fun for you?”
He wanted her on board as far as whatever they chose to share. It was a far cry from the Church’s insistence women were to please their husbands no matter what. Though such a dictate wasn’t spoken of when it came to sex, Irene knew it applied.
