Out of Whack (29 page)

       I kissed the bottom of her foot. She kicked me in the face.

       “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, sitting up. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that—my feet are really ticklish!”

       “It’s okay,” I said, pinching the end of my nose. “I’m fine.”

       “You’re bleeding!”

       “Not too bad,” I insisted. “Just let me go back to the bathroom and clean up. You lie there. Don’t move.”

       I hurried into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. The bleeding was only a small trickle, so I rinsed it away and held a towel against my nose for a couple of minutes until the flow stopped. Then I cleaned myself up and left the bathroom.

       “Are you okay?” Laura asked.

       “Peachy,” I said. “Let’s pick up where we left off.”

       Laura returned to her stretched-out position, and I joined her on the bed. I kissed her shin, preparing my defensive move should she attempt any further foot-nose contact. She didn’t, so I moved up a couple of inches and kissed her knee. I’d never had my knee kissed, so I didn’t know if it was all that exciting, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. I kissed the knee of her other leg to make sure I was being equitable, then kissed her thigh.

       Damn, my mouth was dry. I wondered if my lips were all cracked. Why didn’t I carry around ChapStick? What if my dry lips were uncomfortable against her flesh? What if I was scraping her? Weren’t these types of kisses supposed to be extremely moist? Or what if she were lying there, bored, trying to be subtle about checking the nightstand for a fashion magazine?

       I forced those questions out of my mind and proceeded upward. As I kissed a winding trail up her thigh, I could see the tan line where she had been wearing a remarkably sparse bikini bottom. And, yes, I could see...hold on a moment while I grab my copy of
How To Write Sex
Scenes That Sizzle...
I need some advice on how to describe this. Okay, I could see the glorious, neatly trimmed curls of her femininity.

       And my thoughts as I gazed upon this wonder of wonders were “If I had that much trouble with just the panties, how the
hell
am I gonna get that bra off?”

       I kissed around the warm, inviting mound of her womanhood, and kissed a slalom skier-type path up her stomach. She trembled. I was a bit cold myself, being naked right out of the shower and all.

       She sat up slowly as I kissed up to her breasts. I really, really hoped she wasn’t going to make me try to undo the bra straps. I’d mess it up. I just knew it. I’d spend forty-five minutes working on that stupid bra strap while Laura flipped through the television stations with the remote control. If there was any mercy in the world, any at all, Laura Stricklen would not make me remove her bra myself.

       She reached behind her back and unfastened the bra. It slid off the...one moment, let me check the book again...beautiful globes of her potential child-feeding apparatuses. Though small, they were the most visually appealing breasts I could imagine, and I’m not just saying that because of their proximity.

       I figured I was permitted to touch them, so I reached out and stroked their undersides. I saw the nipples hardening. It was pretty cool. I wondered if I could get them to soften then harden again then soften then harden and so on, but this was strictly out of curiosity and not something I really intended to experiment with.

       She grabbed my hands by the wrists and crushed them to her breasts, turning me from a suave lover to a lust-ridden groper. Hey, whatever worked. She leaned forward and kissed me with such passion I thought my lips were going to be squished flat over the entirety of my face. We kept this up for several minutes, as my thumbs stroked her nipples in the least boring demonstration of thumb twiddling I’d ever experienced.

       Her hand slid down and caressed the...hold on...throbbing cannon of my manhood. The problem is that this cannon was still on the wimpy side. It was like the lower half of my body had said “Whoa! Too much stimulation! Shut ‘er down, fellas!” I tried to will myself to harden, but there’s nothing quite like worrying about getting hard to keep yourself nice and soft.

       She caressed me then leaned back. “I want your mouth on me,” she purred.

       “My mouth was on you until you pulled away,” said Mr. I Am So Clueless As To Be A Freak Of Nature.

       She reclined all the way on her back and parted her legs. “Please...I want to feel your tongue...”

       I could have stuck out my tongue and put her hand on it, but even I wasn’t
that
clueless. So, it was time to perform oral sex for the first time. I really wished that I’d taken the time to practice on my hand. You know, when you put your thumb and index finger together and it sort of lets you simulate...well, I hadn’t done it, so it doesn’t matter.

       I got into a crouching position, and ran my dry tongue up her inner thigh. I would have loved something to drink, but if there were too many delays getting my tongue to its final destination the passengers might switch airlines. As my tongue worked its way toward home base, I ran my fingers through her jungle of love. Actually, it was more like a garden of love. And if that’s more description than you feel you need, you should probably return to Version A of this chapter before it’s too late.

       My tongue ran out of inner thigh, so I hovered over her moist center for a moment, and gave it a slow, powerful lick.

       Then I gagged.

       Okay, not being able to rip panties is one thing. Gagging into Laura’s femininity, well, that’s just plain unromantic.

       “Are you all right?” she asked.

       “Fine, fine,” I assured her. I tried to compensate for my reaction with a second lick, but my gag reflexes were going into overdrive.

       She reached down and put her hand between my mouth and her anti-masculinity. “Seth, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

       Oh no. I wasn’t giving up this easy. “I want to. Something just got caught in my throat, that’s all.”

       “Really, it’s not a problem if you feel uncomfortable.”

       I moved her hand away and licked again. This time I didn’t gag, but it took all of the gag-control power within my soul to keep from doing so. I licked some more. Laura moaned with pleasure. I ran my tongue in a slow circle. Laura shivered. I gagged. Laura sat up.

       “I’m serious. If you don’t—”

       I shoved her back down and continued licking. It took superhuman effort to withhold the gags for about a minute, but then I started to get the knack for it. Laura’s breathing, moaning, and squirming became (in order) heavier, louder, and more frantic.

       Yep, once I got into it, I was actually enjoying this.

       Of course, now my tongue was getting tired. I kept it up for a bit longer, then pulled my head away. Laura grabbed me by the ears and shoved my face back between her legs.

       “Don’t stop now!” she ordered.

       I continued licking, like a good slave boy.

       10...9...8...

       My tongue swirled around gracefully, much like Picasso’s hand must have done while painting his brilliant abstract art.

       7...6...5...

       My tongue moved like a roller coaster.

       4...3...2...

       My tongue felt like it was going to fall off.

       1...

       Laura let out a single gasp.

       1/2...

       “Oh...” she whispered. “Oh my...”

       1/4...

       Houston, we have lift-off!

       To get the full effect, what you need to do now is take this book in both hands (those of you reading off a computer screen are excused from this exercise), shake it as hard as you can, and shriek at the top of your lungs. There’s just no denying that Laura was a loud one. I pulled my face away and enjoyed the show.

       After she’d crested, Laura sat up, pulled me toward her, and kissed me. My lips were kind of tainted, but if she didn’t mind, I certainly didn’t.

       “That was quite enjoyable,” she said. “You have my gratitude.”

       As we kissed some more, she began to stroke my...checking the book again...thing. I was only at about 1/16th mast. She stroked more vigorously for a full thirty seconds, getting me to approximately 1/15th mast.

       I wanted to look down and shout “Yo! Mr. Penis? It’s time to wake the hell up!” But I didn’t.

       Laura adjusted her position, then pleasured me with her mouth. At least she had the good graces not to gag.

       It probably felt pretty darn swell, but I couldn’t tell because I was numb. We were looking at total genital shutdown. My body was overcompensating for all the premature ejaculation terror.

       Laura, to her credit, did not give up. Her mouth and hands did their duty with great enthusiasm. If she was frustrated, she didn’t show it.

       And then, somewhere through the haze of numbness and anxiety, we got a response. Not a huge response, but it was encouraging. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

       It was working.

       Ladies and gentlemen, Bedtime Theatre proudly presents...most of an erection!

       [
Cue “Applause” sign.
]

       While I admired my work of art, Laura turned toward the bed stand and took a condom out of the box we’d purchased from a jealous convenience store clerk on the way. She tore the foil wrapper as I realized with horror that my boner was deflating.

       Mayday! Mayday!

       When Laura returned her attention to what had once been a semi-mighty hard-on, I was too flexible to get the job done. She set the condom aside, and returned to her manual labor.

       I was perking up, and in short order I was like solid steel again. (It’s my book. I can lie if I want to.) Laura picked up the condom and unrolled it over my shaft, which immediately began dwindling. Within moments I’d dwindled to the point where I was of no use in the planned activity, so she removed the condom, tossed it away, and then took another from the box and unwrapped it.

       “Okay, this time you’ll put it on,” Laura suggested.

       After some more mouth action, my lance was ready for battle. I tore the foil wrapper open with my teeth, which worked well until I suddenly realized that I had a condom between my lips.

       Ugh. Spermicide.

       Obviously, I was no longer ready for action. “Damn,” Laura said, this time revealing a bit of frustration. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll go down on you until you’re hard again. While I’m doing this, you get the condom ready. As soon as my mouth moves out of the way, you put the condom on while I get into position on my back. If we time it right, my legs will be open right as you’re completely protected, then I’ll help you with the insertion. Once you’re inside me, you should be okay. Got it?”

       “Got it.”

       She proceeded to fellate me some more, while I got the condom prepared. Once we’d achieved erection, she hurried into the spread and ready position, while I tried to unroll the condom. Damn! Wrong way! I’d lost valuable seconds! I turned it around and unrolled it, wincing as I poked myself with a fingernail that needed clipping.

       I got on top of her, and she grabbed my wrapped manhood and tried to ease it inside her. But...you know...

       “Okay, new plan,” said Laura. “I think our error is in selection of position. Here’s what we’ll do. You get in a seated position and I’ll do the sucking. You’ll hold the condom, right side-up, next to you. Instead of taking my mouth completely away, I’ll lick down as you unroll the condom, so my tongue won’t completely abandon you until right before the condom reaches hair. Then you’ll lie on your back and I’ll mount you, giving us only a couple seconds of non-contact time. How does that sound?”

       “Sounds like it’ll work,” I said.

       We got ready for the next play, and then leapt into action. This time I hit all my marks on cue, and was rewarded with Laura sitting on top of me, thrusting and moaning. And I’m proud to say I got in a good forty-five seconds of game time before the whistle blew. Big-time.

       I would have been happy to bask in the glory for a few minutes, but Laura had other ideas. She was a wild woman.

       By the time we finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted, I could safely say that my virginity had been completely obliterated. Not even Lassie would be able to find it now.

“Some Statistics and a Challenge”

       I woke up with no feeling in my arm where Laura’s head rested upon it. I couldn’t even move my fingers, and I was a bit concerned about this leading to permanent damage. But since I’d never read
Miss Manners’ Guide to Post-Coital Etiquette,
I wasn’t sure whether I should wake her up or not.

       I decided to try to withdraw my arm without disturbing her. I slowly slid it out from under her head, moving with great stealth and patience. She didn’t awaken. It took a while, but finally I got my arm completely free, and rubbed it vigorously to encourage the flow of de-numbing blood.