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“You have a lot of rules.”
“I do.”
“You’re very bossy.”
“You have no idea. Yet.” I watch her eyes widen. “So, as I was saying, rule number three, I like being open too, so I’m going to say right now that I won’t be asking you every five seconds for your permission to do something, because that’s not romantic or sexy. But if at any point you want me to stop, you just say, and I’ll stop. Okay?”
She nods, wide-eyed.
“It’s not a problem,” I tell her. “I won’t get angry or annoyed.”
“Okay. Can I ask another…” She stops herself. “I’ve got a query.”
“That’s just another word for a question.”
“Yeah, I know. Um… you mentioned two orgasms.”
“I should have said a minimum of two.”
“Oh. Um… look, I know you’re going to quote rule number one at me again, but how do you know?”
“How do I know what?”
“That I’ll have two?”
“I have a sixth sense. I can predict the future.”
“Kip…”
“I don’t quite understand the query.”
She purses her lips. “Well, it’s not up to you, is it? Aren’t my orgasms down to me?”
My lips curve up. “I can safely say you’re the first girl who’s ever assumed that.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Do I have to talk about tabs and slots again?”
“Possibly.”
I grin. This is such fun that I’m almost tempted to stay here all evening and just talk to her about it. Almost.
“Well, most women assume the guy is the one responsible for her pleasure.”
“Weird,” she says. “Why’s it his responsibility?”
“Wow. I think I love you.”
She laughs. “I don’t understand. Guys don’t assume their pleasure is the girl’s responsibility?”
“No.”
“So why the other way around?”
“I don’t know,” I admit with some surprise.
“And surely no two women are the same? How can you assume that what turns one girl on is the same as the next?”
