The First Woman I Loved
“You know you can violate me,” she says.
My heart is beating fast. I don’t know what to do. I’m lying in bed next to the woman I’ve been flirting with for weeks, but am too nervous to make a move. Hello I don’t know what I’m doing here! I scream in my head. My first true foray into women — I always thought I was straight but suddenly this one was flirting with me and lo and behold my body had responded with electricity, wetness and a fluttering in my chest when I was around her that I couldn’t explain as anything besides desire.
But here I am now, intimidated by this petite woman at my side. My mouth opens and then closes; I can’t muster the courage to pounce. I wish she would take the lead and devour me, as I’m confident my body would know how to respond there. But now, with her asking me to lead in this spot, I am paralyzed.
I hear the sound of chimes as her phone timer goes off. She had insisted we set the timer, I would have gladly stayed there in my frozen conundrum all night. “Oh well, 20 minutes is over, goodnight,” she says as she nudges me out of bed.
“Uhhhh goodnight,” I stammer mortified, shuffling out of her house and to my cabin across the road. I lie in bed thinking of her words, furious at myself and embarrassed by how out of my element I feel around her. Kicking me out of her room to sleep. Is she serious?
All of a sudden I flash back to her words. If I was really violating her, I would go in there right now, ignoring her bedtime and request for privacy. My body lights up at the thought and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m jumping out of bed, donning my robe and shoes and I’m back across the street. I stand outside her door, palpitations in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I open the door, make a beeline for her mouth, and attack. From her mouth I work my way down her smooth, dark body, imagining how I would want to be touched. I’m still nervous that I’m doing it wrong, that I won’t know what to do when I get down “there,” that she’ll kick me out again, but she doesn’t put up much of a fight. I make my way to her hips, pinning her down, and taste the wetness of her body, the sweet, salty taste like a small electric shock through my tongue. Oh, now I understand the appeal here. This feels amazing. No wonder guys stay down here for a long time.
I flounder around a bit, licking, sucking, even biting and eventually I slither my way back up her body. I kiss her once more on the mouth and, lowering myself from the bed, taunt, “Well, you said you wanted to be violated.” I leave, closing the door behind me and gasp, still in shock that I just pulled that off. Any bit of cool that I was trying to project is gone, and I am laughing — triumphant, shocked and still glowing from the taste of her body in my mouth.
Maybe I should break rules more often.