Page 124 of Break Out the Girl

For me to decide.

“I love you, London. Your brain, your body, your soul. I’d like it if we could be…be intimate together—and that can look like whatever feels best. Cuddling? Kissing? Holding hands? You choose.”

I like all those things very much when they are with my Kitty-cat.

And I want more than that.

I do.

I want everything, but… “But it’s so scary, Kitten. I don’t want those memories in my head anymore, but getting hard makes them rush back. Should I just cut it off? Would that be best?” I wince as I say it, but isn’t that the only option?

“What if you had a different memory associated with having an erection?” She blinks several times and her cheeks have gone as rosy as a posy. “What if I, er, touched you? If you liked it, would that shift your perspective?”

My stupid penis twitches and gets all excited about the idea. He’s obviously saying a very eager yes. But my girl is so good, so light, so bright—doing sex things with me will muddy her.

I’m dirt, not Burt.

We gaze at each other. Words are tumbling around in my head, like balls in a spinny cage, and I can’t pull out the right ones to make a bingo.

“Think about this,” she says, “you’ve never made love with someone, neither have I. We’re both virgins, essentially. Could we learn together?”

Oh.

Oh!

She’s right. Sex is one thing, but I’ve never, ever, ever, ever had an experience that was anything like love-making. And I do love my Kitten so much.

She presses her forehead against mine, her breath warm against my lips. “But please don’t think I’m pressuring you, I just wanted to brainstorm choices, that’s all.”

I blink, and blink again. “How did you do that? How did you get to be so wise? Wiser than the old man of the sea? Wiser than the wise old owl who lived in an oak? The more he saw the less he spoke. The less he spoke the more he heard. Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?”

Kitten giggles. The sound makes my ding-dong get going again, but this time I don’t try to fight it. We’re kneeling, face to face, and I drag her closer so our torsos press together. The contact increases all the sensations.

“London.”

I love how her voice has gone husky.

“I can feel you. Your hardness. Are you doing OK?”

My lips will do a better job of answering than my dizzy words. This time, when I tease the seam of her mouth with my tongue, I let it be love. Just love.

Love that makes my cock hard, makes me want more. I want to touch her. And for her to touch me. Love not sex.

Love.

Her body grinds a little against mine, making a moan pop out of my throat. She pauses, but I grind back so she knows it was a yes-moan.

Slowly, her hand slides down my chest, then pause at the waist of my sweatpants. “Is this alright?” she whispers.

“Very yes, Kitten,” I croak.

“Should I try a little more?”

“Pretty please.”

Her warm palms slide under my jumper and stroke my belly. Then a little lower. Her fingertips brush the tip of my hardness. Over the sweatpants.

I feel the wetness leak from the tip. I want more. My head nods as we kiss again as her fingers dip beneath the elastic. She sucks in a breath as she trails them down my length. “I didn’t think it would feel so silky. Is this good?”