AllFreeNovel
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I sip my wine.
I’m getting even more turned on.
How is that possible? Energy flow is limited by resistors to prevent an overload. Capacitors store energy so it can be released later. I’m ready to explode. I must be short-circuiting.
Maybe that’s where tonight’s orgasm comes in.
Orgasms.
Please let there be plenty of them.
I finish my wine and move to him, unable to be idle while he does everything. Standing next to each other, we make light work of it, the food put away and the dishwasher humming soon.
Parts of me are humming, too.
Will excuses himself to use the bathroom and I grab the edge of the kitchen counter, reeling, the few moments of alone time crucial for regulating my emotions. My “gynecological parts,” as Mom so delicately referred to them, are beyond regulation.
I’m a runaway train of oxytocin and pent-up need.
Nervous, I flit around the room, fluffing my sofa pillows, straightening a stack of books on my side table. I’m good in the grooming department. Condoms and lube in my bedside drawer. Will’s comment earlier about staying for breakfast makes his intentions clear.
This is happening.
This is really happening.
I need music. My powered-off phone is normally docked into a speaker set, but instead of re-opening a portal into hell with my mother by turning it on, I find my laptop and re-connect to streaming music, picking a soothing jazz-filled station with a little blues, making the air spontaneous and loose. I sit down on my sofa and hold the stemless wine glass at the base, resting lightly in my palm like a man’s sac.
It’s fragile.
It contains something you swallow.
Squeeze too tight and someone bleeds.
“What are you thinking about?” Will asks me as he walks in and sits down next to me, body language clear that we’re moving on to the sex part of tonight.
Do I tell him the truth?
I blush.
I remove my glasses. He’s so close, he’s almost crystal clear. If I move three more inches toward him, true clarity will set in.
“Ah,” he says softly, looking at me. “You look so much softer. Sweeter.”
“Without the glasses?”
“Yes. Younger.” He strokes my arm. “Something.”
“I can put them back on.”
Two fingers touch my face, tracing the cheekbone. “I like you however you are.” Before I can react, he looks at the wine in my hand and adds, “Want more?”
I look at his package. I can’t help myself. “Yes.”
“Now who’s making every comment into a sexual innuendo? We’re a pair, aren’t we?”
Pair. Sac. Testicles.
Oh, no.
