EXCOLO

She looks like she’s thinking about that. I was right, not that kind of girl. I’m just hoping she doesn’t think about it too long when she gives me a look like she has something to prove, and says she does want to and asks me to give her warning. Of course, sweetheart, I think, and I’m about to say it when she goes down on me, a smooth, wet slide, warmer than sunshine, and I can’t talk anymore. It’s been a very long time, and she is very, very good, moving slow and finding a rhythm quickly. I reach a hand up into her hair again, not pushing her at all, just feeling, and let her work. Not sure if time slows down or speeds up, but there’s a familiar pressure building fast in me, and so I start working on forcing the noises coming out of my mouth to start being words. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna—“ But I can hold on, dammit, until she lets me knows what she wants me to do. Owe her that much.