then it’s not.”
She swallows and nods, her eyes still closed as her body twitches this way and that. I run my palm down her arm and follow it beneath the covers and into her shorts, and she gasps as my hand covers the one holding the bullet.
“This is too much for you, goddess. Too stimulating. That’s why you can’t enjoy it when your mind finally allows your orgasm to come.” I follow the cord to where the remote has fallen next to her hip, and I click the button, shutting it off.
She opens her eyes, but she doesn’t complain that I’ve stopped her. No, her eyes aren’t angry or even filled with that haughtiness I love. Her eyes are pleading, begging me to give her relief. But I’m not going to do that. At least not yet.
I look her straight in the eyes and say low and clear, “There is nothing in this world I look forward to more than the moment I finally get to make love to you.” She must hear the “but” in my tone, because the tiny bit of hope I saw in her face disappears. “But first, right now, you feel helpless in finding your own pleasure. You were ashamed of the fact that you’re twenty-seven and know nothing about your own body. But you never want to be dependent on another person again, even if it’s for something like finding release, climaxing. If I were to make love to you right now, that’s what would happen, and you’d never learn to do it yourself. And giving yourself pleasure and making yourself come is one skill everyone should know.”
She nods, shallow and quick, her chin wobbling. “Okay.” She pulls in a stuttered breath. “Will you please teach me?”
I scoot even closer so I can look down into her beautiful, hopeful face, and she holds my eyes with hers, looking at me like I’m her savior, like I could be the one to fight all her demons and save her from her misery. But what she doesn’t realize, is she’s about to learn to do all that herself. And then she won’t need me, but she’ll want me, which is so fucking much better.
“I’d be honored, goddess.” I lean down and kiss her when the look of relief takes over everything else on her face, and pride swells in my chest that she doesn’t even second-guess if I’ll be able to or not. In her mind, she just believes. And that above everything else is what gives me hope that I can heal her heart enough that she could fall in love with me.
I whisper against her lips, “First and foremost, you need to understand that a woman’s orgasm starts in her mind. It takes a lot more for a female to orgasm, because biologically speaking, a woman doesn’t have to orgasm for us to be able to procreate. That’s why it’s so much easier for a male to get off, because without his ejaculation, our species dies off.” I pull back the comforter and sheets still covering her body, and her muscles immediately go taut. “As soon as you grabbed your vibrator and pressed it you, your face instantly contorted with concentration, with focus, and everything in your features grew tense. There wasn’t a single moment of actual pleasure to be felt. You put too much pressure on yourself to orgasm, which defeats the purpose of masturbation when you don’t make it feel good.”
She nods, closing her eyes and visibly trying to relax.
“And for future reference, that goes for sex as well. You, as a woman, can’t go into making love focusing solely on the reward at the end. That’s why they call it making love, because it’s the actual journey before the destination that’s the best part.” Her lips lift in a little smile, and I know she’s enjoying the tone of my voice, so I continue to speak soothingly to her, putting her at ease when she was so obviously stressed about this before.
“Put the orgasm completely out of your mind, and what are you left with when touching yourself? What is the purpose?” I prompt.
She swallows thickly, her cheeks turning pink. “Um… to feel pleasure. To soothe an ache there when I’m aroused.”
“Very good, and what is one’s automatic reaction when wanting to soothe an ache? And not just the one between our legs. You hit your elbow, what do you do?” I ask.
Her eyes closed, she reaches with her right hand