Deacon is kissing the side of my breast, watching my face with a teasing smile. “How was that?” he asks.

“What the fuck just happened?” I say, breathless and a little confused. How had I been masturbating for years and never knew it could be like that? It’s almost like a betrayal, like my body has been lying to me this entire time.

He buries his face between my breasts and starts laughing. Like, crack-up laughing. I feel kind of dumb, like some ignorant little girl instead of the sexual woman I try to portray myself to be.

“You’ve never had an orgasm before?” he says when he finally stops laughing.

I’m still breathless, my heart pounding in the back of my neck. “Not like that. Nothing close to being like that.”

He looks at me, smug now when he smiles. “Oh, honey, that’s nothing compared to the things I plan to do to you.”

A shiver rolls through me and it feels a little like Christmas right now. I’m so excited I can hardly sit still.

out, touching that most delicate spot and it’s as though the rest of the world has just

up for air, he says, “Your pussy tastes so good.” Then he’s diving back in. I hold

Sucking and licking as if he’s

from the inside out. I’ve never felt like this. It was always awkward and confusing with other boyfriends when we’d fool around and it was obvious that neither of us had enjoyed the experience as much as we should have. Maybe it’s because Deacon is older and more experienced. He seems to know exactly what my body needs exactly

fingered before—including by myself—it’s as if he’s found some kind of secret passage, a pleasure center that’s been hidden my whole life and only his finger is the key to

not to wake up the baby. It’s probably too late for that

an uncomfortably

almost tell him it’s because I’ve never had anything more than one finger in there before. I’m afraid to tell him I’m a virgin, afraid it’ll scare him away. I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want him to think of me as the little kid next door. I’m a woman

virgin. “I need you,” I tell

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