Letting Him — Elizabeth Reeve

“Why won’t you let me go down on you?” Alan asked.

We’d been putting a satisfying close on an evening together. A home-made dinner, a rented movie, and then some slow, sweet foreplay had me feeling relaxed and happy. Until Alan started kissing his way down my stomach and parted my thighs with his hands.

I had cupped his jaw, and urged him back up top, trying to distract him from his goal with kisses and keep his mouth focused on the parts of my body I didn’t mind him tasting.

But then he had pulled away, and I couldn’t ignore his question.

“I just…I don’t really like that,” I said, sitting up and drawing my knees up against my chest.

“You don’t like it?” He seemed surprised.

I shook my head. “It makes me feel uncomfortable. I just can’t think why anyone would want to…you know.”

“Taste you?”

I blushed, and nodded.

“But I do want to,” he said. “I want to make you feel good. Don’t you like it at all?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never been able to relax enough. I get tense.”

Alan leaned forward and kissed me, cradling the back of my head with one hand and stroking my hip with the other. He skimmed his fingers up from my hip, across my ribs, and caressed the side of my breast before teasingly rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He sucked on my tongue, and I moaned. When he broke the kiss, we were both breathing heavily.

“Please let me try,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll stop if you really don’t like it. But I think you will. Give it a chance.”

I could feel myself getting tense already, but he was so sincere. “Okay.” I stretched out on the sheets again.

Alan grinned at me, and then glanced quickly around the room before grabbing a silk scarf from the top of my dresser.

“Here,” he said, folding it into a thin strip, “you can wear this as a blindfold.”

“A blindfold? Why?” I was confused, but I raised my head so that he could knot the scarf over my closed eyes, anyway.

“So you can focus on feeling.” His voice seemed huskier, somehow, when I couldn’t see his face. “You won’t be distracted.”

I giggled. “I didn’t think you had a kinky streak, Alan.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” His voice was definitely rougher. He seemed to be getting really turned on by the blindfold thing. “Spread your legs.”

I was a little surprised by the abruptness of the command, but I guess the blindfold was working for me, too. I bit my lip, and let my knees fall open.

“You’re so beautiful,” I heard Alan say, and then I felt him moving on the bed, settling his weight between my legs. I knew he was there, but I still jerked in surprise when he kissed the inside of my thigh.

“Shh,” he breathed.

He stroked my thighs with his hands, kneading my flesh with firm strokes of his fingers, moving up my body, across my hips, my belly. He squeezed my breasts in his big palms, pinched the nipples between strong fingers. My hips came up off the bed a little. I was starting to crave a different kind of contact.

He must have been watching for it. His hands slid down my body again, quickly, and he cupped my ass, squeezing, kneading, raising me up, and then–

“Oh, God!” I said, as I felt his tongue against my clit. I gripped the sheets, twisting them between my fingers.

“Does it feel good?” His breath felt cool against my heated skin, but his tongue as he licked me again was like fire.

I moaned something that might have sounded like yes.

His hands moved along my thighs again, as he positioned my legs so that they hooked over his elbows, leaving his fingers free to touch me. I felt him spread my labia with one hand, and then I felt the most amazing pressure as he started to do to my clitoris what he had done earlier to my tongue, sucking gently.

The voices in my head which had always ruined things before were totally drowned out by the sensations Alan was creating with his warm, wet mouth. His hands were at work, too, spreading and massaging my labia, fingertips stroking inside of me, coaxing forth more and more feeling, until my body started to vibrate with a delicious tension.

Alan reacted to the little tremors running through my muscles by applying a firmer pressure with his mouth, his tongue moving in quick arcs across my most sensitive skin. I was so close… So very close… My panting breaths were loud and ragged, and the sound excited me even more. I started crying out, and reached for my breasts.

In the same moment that my fingertips closed over my nipples, Alan grazed my clit with his teeth. I came with a shout, eyes squeezed tightly shut behind the blindfold, bright colors washing across my mind as my body trembled in release.

Alan held my hips up until I had finished, and my breathing had slowed, and then lowered me to the mattress again. I felt cold, suddenly, and rolled onto my side, curling my knees towards my belly.

“Wow,” I said, and I heard Alan laugh.

He moved to spoon me, his warm arms coming up around mine, and kissed the side of my neck. I could smell myself, a little, on him.

“Was it okay?”

“Yes,” I said. “I didn’t know. It was great. Thank you.”

He hugged me, and pressed his body tightly against mine. I could feel his erection, hard and hot, pressing against the base of my spine.

“I liked it, too,” he said. “I like the way you taste.”

I felt a new surge of wetness between my thighs.

“I want you inside me,” I said, bending my knee so that he could slide into me from behind.

He didn’t need any further prompting, and soon he was thrusting deep inside me, with one hand on my breast and the other stroking my clit.

Neither of us had removed the blindfold.

Oral sex, blindfolds… I wondered, as I approached my second orgasm of the evening, what Alan would suggest next. Whatever it turned out to be, I was sure I’d like it.

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Elizabeth Reeve lives in the Sonoran Desert with her husband, a pair of standard-issue writers’ cats, an extremely belligerent parakeet, and a backyard full of wild-growing nightshade. She is often startled awake at midnight by the haunting calls of coyotes chasing their prey through the wash near her house, or by the college students next door throwing a party. You can find her online at www.ElizabethReeve.com, or on Twitter as elizareeve.