and holds her left elbow that rests on the other side of her. “You rub it. You hold it and massage it until it feels better,” she murmurs.
“Right. You don’t attack it with something that’s going to make the feeling more intense, do you? You ease that ache.” I sniff a quick laugh. “Well, unless you’re into that kind of thing, but for the sake of what I’m teaching you, I’m sure you understand.”
She smiles again, and she nods, resting her right hand back on her stomach.
“So I want you to stop thinking of this as learning the fastest way to get off, and think of it more like learning the stimulations that make you feel good, that soothe you. And as I said, a woman’s orgasm begins in her mind, so if you don’t have your mind right, it’s never going to come.” I tap her hip. “Undress yourself. For this first time, you’re going to learn to treat yourself, to make love to yourself, not just give yourself a quickie with your clothes still on.”
She breathes out a long breath, and then she hooks her thumbs in her pajama shorts and pulls them all the way off. I lean back a little so she can sit up and take off her tank top, and then she falls back on her pillow, her knees coming together and up to hide her center, and her right arm crossing over her breasts as she grips her left bicep.
The Dom in me rears up swiftly, wanting to order her to bare herself to me, to stop hiding and show me what’s mine. But I rein him in, forcing myself to remember this isn’t about me right now. This is about Astrid. So I take just the top sheet and pull it up over her body, leaving the comforter down by the foot of the bed. Her eyes pop open, and seeing my gentle smile, she relaxes once again, and her knees lower slightly.
“Now, don’t just go straight for your pussy.” Her cheeks flare but I continue. “You need to work up to that. Think about stimulating your entire body, waking it up and getting it warm.”
“But that’s what happens when I read, Neil. My entire body comes to life and I need the relief,” she says, a tinge of desperation still in her tone.
I lean down to speak low right next to her ear. “If you were lying here reading your book and wanted me to make love to you in order to give you relief, would you want me to automatically thrust my cock into your pussy, or would you want me stimulate you first, kiss you, stroke your skin, test how wet you are to see if you’re ready for me, tease other parts of your body first?” I ask, my beard tickling the skin of her neck, and she shivers, her nipples going hard beneath the thin sheet.
“Touché,” she murmurs, and I grin.
“So that’s what I want you to do, goddess. Stroke your skin, tease yourself, make yourself want your hand as badly as you’d want someone else’s,” I encourage, and she tentatively starts moving her hand along her belly. I tuck the sheet under her left bicep to hold it in place so it doesn’t uncover her with her movements. “And while you’re doing that, in your mind, you can picture whoever you want to be doing it.”
She smirks. “Shia LaBeouf,” she whispers.
I grunt in disapproval. “Or, you can think about the things we talked about before… when I was eating your sweet pussy,” I rumble, and she gasps as she traces across her nipple. “Good girl,” I add when I see her legs part. The part of her chest still visible above the sheet has flushed red, her arousal clear, and her lips part as she focuses more attention on her tits.
I keep urging her on, seeing she likes me talking her through it, keeping my voice low and sensual. “Play with your breasts, not just your nipples but the full curve at the bottom. There are so many deliciously little nerve endings to awaken there. And learn what kind of touch you like. The barest graze of your fingertips, a tight massaging grip, the sharp scratch of fingernails. And it’s an automatic response. The moment you feel something you like, you can do it again and again. And the second you realize you don’t prefer something, you stop. There is no verbally telling your partner you