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She looks at me, her pupils so big her eyes are practically black. I wonder if mine look like that. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

My heart doesn’t stop seizing. Not as I watch her.

She kisses my lips, then moves down my throat, down my collarbone, delivers one kiss to each breast.

My heartbeat speeds up. In a bad way.

She kisses my stomach.

She’s really going to do this.

A kiss to the sensitive spot above my crotch.

She’s going to make me feel great, I’m sure. But no amount of reading, no amount of learning from experience—I have her parts clear in my head, they look enough like mine—none of it has prepared me. I still have no idea what to do. It’s like I’m staring at a test written in a foreign language, minutes before the teacher says to start.

She kisses my inner thigh.

I can’t do it. I can’t reciprocate.

A kiss to my groin.

Maybe she won’t ask me to return the favor.

Her mouth—Jesus—her mouth gets to where she wants to go, and just the stroke of her tongue down my opening is taking me out of reality. She strokes down my pussy, steady, sliding up to focus on my clit. I don’t know what she’s doing. It’s stressing me out, but it…I never even realized this is what everyone was raving about.

The only issue is she’s good. She’s incredible. Something I’ll never be able to do. And as she sucks on my clit, I dig my hands into her soft hair and I’m a minion under her control. I need this to last forever, I need to stay in this bubble. I can’t let my brain pop it.

And when I come under her tongue, pulling a groan out of her as I tug her hair, the first thought I have is that I can never replicate that.

As she lays her head on my thigh, sex-soaked lazy gaze on me, I start to panic. I can’t make her as blissful as I am. My chest aches, and guilt sweeps the pleasure away. It’s my first time, and I’m such a shitty partner.

“Val, could we do something else?” I ask.

There has to be some other way I can satisfy her. I’ll just disappoint her with oral. I refuse to be like those boys I dated, unable to give it as good as they got.

The warmth swoops out from between my thighs as she sits up. She rests on my thigh. “Sure. Do you have something in mind?”

Something I’m familiar with. When Romy described the—no, can’t think about Romy right now. Straps. Penetration. It’s something I’ve been primed to do my whole life anyway. Certainly in the past six years. I just take it, and Valeria gets pleasure from it. It’s intimate, it’s…it’s exactly what I wanted from all those men anyway.

“Let’s do something we can both get off on,” I say. “Do you like straps?”

Valeria sits up, off my leg. “You’ve never been penetrated and you want me to use a strap?”

Why does she sound so surprised? Is it harder than I think? “I mean…do you have one?”

“Yeah…” She studies me. “You sure?”

I rub my arm. “I feel comfortable with you trying it. I want to. Especially if you can get off too.”

She forms her lips into a thin line, releasing them slowly. “Okay. I’ll go get the supplies.” She kisses my cheek. “Try not to run away.”

I take a deep breath. I’m making the decisions here. I’m doing this for my own comfort. I’m doing this because I want to.

But as her footsteps grow faint upstairs, my lungs get tight. It’s harder to breathe. I put my hand on my bare chest, forcing the breaths out slowly. Seven seconds in, seven out.

Her footsteps grow louder again. My heart kicks up with each step she takes.

A bottle of lube lands a foot from me. I turn around, and there’s Valeria in a black harness and a strap, just like the one I saw in the Pleasure Chest.