Page 71 of Falling for the Photographer

I don’t mean the last part to come out as a question, but I can’t help it. It’s difficult to think clearly when he’s smoothing his hands around to my lower back, down to my ass, beginning to massage slowly.

“Yes,” he growls. “You perfect mind reader.”

“Did you know?” I ask. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

He smirks as he leans down, kissing the edge of my mouth, his hand pulling at the fabric of my dress.

His touch finds my bare flesh, pressing down on my ass.

“I wondered,” he says. “You said you’d never had an orgasm. I thought maybe you’d just never enjoyed sex. But then you told me you’d never touched a man and…but I wasn’t going to force you to tell me. I want you so badly.”

“Can I feel again?”

“You don’t have to ask,” he snarls. “But I have a better idea, something to get your tight slit good and ready for my cock. This is something I’ve never done before. But I want to try it with you.”

“What?” I ask.