was it dangerous for him to teach you this? maybe. but he’s been telling it to you since you were old enough to understand the concept, but now, several years later, you’re more confused than ever.
it’s the middle of the night and you’re sleepy and confused and he’s sitting on top of your hips, your sleep shirt is pushed all the way up to your chin and there’s something warm and slick spattering your chest and your tummy.
when you panic and start to twist under him, trying to dislodge him and breathe at the same time, he wraps his hands around your waist and hushes you.
“shhhhh, baby, i know. i know, it’s late and i scared you but it’s just me, you’re okay.”
it takes a minute for you to settle, but he’s patient, cooing at you and kissing at your forehead to soothe your hazy, sleep-addled confusion. he’s heavy and solid and warm and your nipples are peaked and you’re still on display and you’re thankful for the dim of the night to keep your overheated cheeks in a bit of shadow. something strange and unfamiliar is twisting low and hot in the pit of your stomach and you’re sure it will go away as soon as he’s no longer sitting on your body.
“don’t you remember what i told you?” he asks, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes despite the dark.
“about what?” your voice is hoarse and sticks in your dry throat as you answer him, raspy from sleep.
“about this,” he says, gesturing to the splatters of slickness dotting your tits, your collarbone, your tummy. “about orgasms.”
you blink at him, rooting through your fuzzy memories to figure out exactly what he told you. it comes to you slowly and it feels too weird to say out loud so you just nod instead.
it doesn’t work on him. it never works on him.
“go ahead, honey, tell me what i taught you.”
it takes a shaky breath before you can even speak, the words coming slow and uncertain.
“you can only have an orgasm with someone you’re in love with,” you say, giving him a shy, awkward little smile when his eyes light up with something that might be pride, though it looks a little darker right now.
“that’s right! you’re such a smart girl, sweetheart, i knew you’d remember. now tell me, have you ever had one before?”
that feels like far too personal of a question, but the answer is boring, of course. not for lack of trying, since you’ve tried a bunch of times, just because you wanted to know what it felt like. but it never worked, you never really felt any different, it just made you feel too warm, a little like now, but less tingly. less…good. and then you’d give up, frustrated and sweaty, feeling like something was supposed to happen but just never did. he was right again, it seemed, and that always annoyed you more.
“of course not,” you answer honestly. “i’ve never been in love.”
”oh, i don’t believe that, honey,” he says, finally shifting his body to move so that he’s no longer sitting astride your hips. no, now he’s scooting down the bed to end up with his hands on your thighs and his head right there between them and in all that time he was sitting on you, you couldn’t even tell that you weren’t wearing anything under your big tshirt anymore.
no, the panties you’d had on to sleep in are certainly missing, and that realization causes you to jump and try to close your legs immediately, but his palms are flat on your thighs, keeping them open for him.
he clicks his tongue at you, a sharp, disapproving sound that hits you somewhere in the chest, feeling deeply filthy and somehow electrifying at once.
“no, sweetheart, stay like this and let me look at you.” he makes a soft, satisfied sound under his breath. “i definitely don’t believe you, baby. you’re already slick and soft and wet for me, did you know that? no? well you are, which means you don’t have to worry. i have a way to find out if you’re in love with me too.”
it’s the last thing he says before he dips his head and gives you a long, slow lick, igniting a sensation that you’ve never felt before. it makes you jump, so surprised by the way your body feels under his hot mouth.
“stay still, baby, i have a point to prove.”
