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“Because I’ve never had one before,” she admits.
I stop laughing.
Shit.
“Aubrey, have you never touched yourself before?”
She doesn’t look up at me, but shakes her head no.
Shit.
I knew she’d never kissed anyone, but I thought she’d for sure at least gotten curious and masturbated before. This changes things. The thought of being the first man to touch her, taste her, make love to her has always been something that turned me on, but that was when I thought she’d explored her own body.
I stand and bring her with me, turning us around and laying her on the bed. Aubrey watches me curiously as I pull a chair from the corner of the room and face it toward the bed. I sit in the chair and lock eyes with the beautiful fiery haired goddess laying on the bed.
“Have you ever wanted to touch yourself, Aubrey?”
I try to keep my voice low and calm. She groans and covers her eyes with her arm.
“Don’t do that, gorgeous. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. Don’t hide from me.”
She lowers her arm and rolls to her side, facing me.
“Yes. I was just—too scared, I guess,” she says. “I know it’s not true now and sounds absolutely bat shit crazy but—”
Aubrey’s been letting cuss words slip out every once in a while, likely the influence of Taylor, and it’s almost cute. She still tends to say them a little quieter than the rest of the words in her sentence.
“But what?”
“Pastor Johnson preached that masturbation would lead to sickness. That those who engaged in it would develop horrible boils on their skin. There was even a kid I grew up with who had really bad acne that everyone accused of having the masturbation sickness. It was awful. Everyone was so mean to him.”
“Wow. Poor kid. But hey, I have perfect skin and I’ve masturbated regularly since I figured out what it was.”
Aubrey bursts into laughter and quickly covers her mouth to stifle the noise.
I lean forward in the chair, placing my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands together. Never taking my eyes off hers.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
“More than anyone,” she says.
My heart actually skips a beat when she answers without hesitation. Not a single waiver of doubt in her voice.
“Take off your pants, Aubrey.”
Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. For a moment I think she won’t do it, but gradually her hands travel to the button on her jeans. I don’t know if she’s in fact moving at a snail's pace or if my mind has just slowed everything down so I can enjoy each delicious moment. Her jeans slide down her legs centimeters at a time and by the time she’s gotten them all the way off and discarded on the floor, my own jeans feel five sizes too small in one very specific area.
Her panties are still on. Black and lacey to match the bra.
“Touch yourself,” I say, my voice as even as I can manage.
Aubrey audibly sucks in air and doesn’t move a muscle.
“Gorgeous, stick your hand in your panties and rub your clit. I know you know what you’re supposed to do. You’re safe here, I promise.”
Meticulously, without saying a word, Aubrey lowers her right hand into her underwear. I can see that she begins hesitantly moving her fingers around. After a few minutes, I can tell she’s found the right spot and the right rhythm. I can see her chest and the black lace bra she’s still wearing rise and fall with her breaths. Her eyes fall closed.
“Does that feel good, gorgeous?”
