His eyes just about bug out of his head. “Uh, yeah, Lucy. It kind of is.”
I square my shoulders. “A lot of women don’t orgasm with partners. It’s a fact, Whit. There’s nothing wrong with not being able to—”
His hand cups my chin. “Damn right, there’s not. That’s not the issue. The big deal here, Lucy Madison Alvarez, is that you never came, and I never noticed. Jesus Christ.”
He looks broken at the prospect, but it’s not the giant issue he’s making it out to be.
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, Whit. I never wanted you to notice.” I’m being completely honest, but that doesn’t seem to help.
“You never wanted me to notice? Holy Christ, why not?” his arms tense at his sides.
“Well,” I say, taking a breath for this trip down memory lane. “Back in high school, the year before we…had our summer together,” I shrug, for lack of better words, “I was dating this guy, Mike. He took me to prom. We fooled around for a couple months, dated in the way high school kids do. Anyway, every time he touched me…it took forever. And…nothing happened. And honestly, it was kind of a waste of my time. I did a little research, ok? I figured out what the signs of orgasm were, and I learned pretty quickly how to fake it. The movies are right about that—it’s not hard. And I also learned that it’s pretty common. Something like 15% of women never orgasm at all. And most women need external stimulation to climax. There’s nothing wrong with that.” My tone is defensive, but seriously, people can be super judgmental about this stuff and that’s just wrong.
But I should know better. Whit’s not the judgy type. He takes my hand in his and looks at me earnestly. “Lucy, of course there’s nothing wrong with that. I just—you mean ev—” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “There’s no time clock, you know? When my head is between your legs, my mouth on your pussy, my tongue on your clit, the goddamn last thing I’m thinking about is time.” He traces his finger along my jaw, and I look up into his eyes. Sincerity is reflected in his gaze. As funny and ridiculous as Caleb Whitman can be ninety-five percent of the time, I can tell he’s serious now. “We’re here to make each other feel good, Lucy. However that happens is up to us, ok?”
I smile. “And when we're together and I scream and writhe underneath you, it’s out of pleasure. Everything you do to me feels incredible. I’ve just never reached the big O, or whatever. Big deal.”
He runs his free hand over my waist and hips. “But you do with this, right?” he asks, holding out the vibrator.
I nod.
“And you know, Lucy Charlotte, that this is a judgment-free zone, right?”
I nod again.
As if to prove his point, he presses his lips to mine, our bodies colliding as our mouths fuse together. And he’s right—I’m not feeling any judgment right now. But what I do feel is Whit’s rock-hard cock against my belly. The flimsy towel I’m wearing doesn’t stand a chance against the friction we’re creating and when it starts to slip, Whit tugs at the fabric, leaving me naked.
Apparently, he doesn’t want me to feel alone in my exposure because he whips his hoodie off and tosses it on the floor. He hooks his thumbs into his sweats, but I stop his movements with my hand on his wrist.
“Whit, we—”
“Do you want me Lucy?” his blunt question deserves nothing but honesty.
“Yes. But—”
“Then the rest is just details.”
“Don’t they say the devil is in the details?”
His only reply is a wicked grin. He shucks his sweats and stands before me, gloriously naked. He reaches his right arm out and threads our fingers together. It’s strange, but I’ve never been naked with someone while standing up. Sex is something I do between the sheets, and more often than not, I do it alone, as evidenced by the vibrator he’s still holding in his left hand. When I do have sex with a partner, though, it’s with the lights off and the covers on. And the few guys I’ve been with have had no issue when I tell them I don’t come. I swear, the last guy looked relieved, as though it was a step he could happily skip.
Whit is unlike anyone else I’ve ever been with. He’s nonplussed about the whole vibrator thing. In fact, he looks intrigued.
“You ever been to Ohio before now, Luce?”
“No… I’ve flown over it. That’s all.”
He kisses me before continuing his train of thought. I love that. I love his random kisses and touches. Physical affection is never something I’ve thought much about—never something I craved—except with Whit.
“So it’s safe to say you don’t know anyone in Ohio?”
“I don’t. But why are we talking about my acquaintances in the Midwest when we’re both naked?”
His cock stirs against the soft skin of my belly and my legs part of their own volition.
“Because I want to do this, Lucy. You and me.”
“But Whit, we can’t.”
