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I know what this is, and knowing I was able to push her to orgasm makes me feel more manly than any fight I've ever been in. The desperate clutch of her hands and the pants escaping her are tempting and over-stimulating in the best way. I ride it out with her, waiting for her grip to relax. When it finally does, when she finally lifts her head, I don't give her time to talk. Buoyed by success, I take her mouth.
I've been worried about kissing for months. The description of the act is less than attractive. The touching lips part is fine. Our first kiss, my first kiss, on our wedding day was good. But putting my tongue in someone's mouth? Letting them put their tongue in mine? The idea is horrifying.
But if it's Janey's tongue, it turns out, it's not horrifying.
Yes, it's strange at first. But the intimacy of it feels so right. How much do you have to trust someone to let them do this?
I'm lost in the kiss and the smell of her. I'm aware of my hips rolling, pushing, but I don't pay much attention to it. It all feels too good. My body is one giant explosion of sensation. Maybe that's why I don't realize how close I am. But when Janey pulls back just enough to bite my lip, all that sensation explodes out of me, and into my shorts.
I'm helpless, riding that wave, barely conscious of Janey's low murmured words, or gentle stroking up and down my back. My body isn't mine. It's bucking and shaking, all the muscles trembling.
"I'm dying," I groan into her neck. It's too bad. I really did want to live long enough to actually have sex. But if I have to go, I can't be too sad about going this way, between her legs, wrapped in her arms.
"You're not dying, I promise."
"I am dying. I'm spasming. This is the death throes. I've read about it."
Her chest shakes with her laughter. "It's not the death throes. It's just a really good orgasm."
"No way," I mumble, dropping my forehead to her chest. "I've had orgasms before. My hand and I are really well acquainted. They didn't feel anything like this."
Her voice is so low, I nearly miss the words. "I know."
Slowly, my brain comes back online, and I realize she's right. I'm not actually dying. The French 'petit mort' makes more sense. However, that felt more like a big death, not a little one. Realizing how much of my weight is resting on Janey, I shift us so we're laying on our sides. She studies me, a rosy flush on her cheeks. She breaks eye contact and fusses with her top, doing up the buttons.
I'll miss you. I'll see you later beautiful breasts. "That was the weirdest, most wonderful experience of my life," I tell her, watching her fingers thread the buttons.
At my words, her fingers freeze on her buttons. A low laugh escapes, and she brings her eyes back to mine. "Yeah, that's actually a really accurate description. Weirdly wonderful. I didn't know you were going to do that. I thought, when you asked for a kiss, you meant my mouth."
"I know. But I had to work my way up to it," I explain.
She frowns, that little line appearing between her eyebrows. "Work your way up to it? People usually start with kissing, then move on to...other areas."
I pull her closer to me. She stiffens but relaxes into me quickly. Maybe I shouldn't read too much into her body language, but something still has her thinking of pulling away from me, and it hurts just a little bit. I push the reminder of her hesitancy out of my mind, determined to stay in the moment with her.
"Kissing is weird. I didn't think I'd like it. But I understand that most couples enjoy it, and I wanted to please you."
"You hated it?" she asks quietly.
"Not at all. It's quite surprising, actually. I did not realize how sensitive my mouth is, or how good any of that would feel. I think we'll have to do a lot more kissing...of all kinds." I press a kiss against that frown line, over and over, until I get a giggle, and the line is gone. That will have to do for now. "You're okay with everything that happened?" I ask.
Her fingers trace over my pec, and she hums low in her throat. "I'm okay." She taps my chest and puts a smile on her face, but not her normal smile. This one feels off. "Hey, maybe we better check in upstairs. I'm sure things are going to be busy."
I reluctantly let go of her when she pushes back. She hops up with a smile. "I'll go get ready in my room." I nod, but really, I'm playing her words over and over in my head. My room, my room.
Was last night — was this morning — a one-time thing?
26
JANEY
There's a dog and a cat taking turns chasing each other through the penthouse. There have been three separate fights already, one of them over adult onesies. And Colton, who hasn't stopped hovering near the kitchen since the turkey went in, is about to send John over the edge.
This is the best Christmas I've ever had.
I snuggle further into the corner of the couch. It's been my vantage point for most of the day. Still in the middle of the action, but away from most of the chaos. Everyone's here, and they're roaming in and out. I'm pretty sure several couples snuck away for quickies. It's loud and busy, some of the men bordering on manic.
And Jonas?
