Page 46 of Holly Jolly July

against my mouth, shuddering and moaning and crying out. My own body reacts to hers with a rush of heat and wetness, and we

ride her wave over and over and over together as one, until I feel it ebb, until her shaking fingers grasp at my shoulder

and I lift my mouth from her, resting my face on her thigh as we both try to catch our breath.

We lie there, in a tingling, shivering heap, as we come back to earth.

I’ve never been more present, more out of my own mind, more sharing of a space and a moment in time, than right now with her.

Mariah strokes my hair, and if I were a cat I’d be purring. I look toward her, still using her thigh as my pillow. Her eyes

are closed and a gentle smile graces her still-flushed face. I relish the way her chest rises and falls, how she’s bare to

the world—bare just for me.

I sit up a little higher, pressing my one hand into the mattress as the other strokes the soft skin of her belly. “Wow,” I

manage to say, breaking the silence.

Mariah nods, swallows, then cracks open her eyes. “Wow,” she agrees.

“You were... amazing!”

She smiles, her eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

“I’ve never seen anyone come like that before!”

Mariah presses her hands against her eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Seriously, it was so beautiful. The way you sounded, and how your body reacted, and you came and came, over and over, it was surreal. I’m so impressed by you. You should be really proud of yourself.”

“What?” She chuckles, her tits jiggling. She looks at me, still confused, but with a gentle smile on her face. “ I should be proud?”

“Yes! You were incredible. It was so rewarding to be here with you for that. I feel honoured.” I press a hand to my chest.

She gives her head a slow shake. “You’re so weird. But in a good way.”

“Thank you. I pride myself on being weird in a good way.”

“Come here.” She beckons, reaching for me.

I oblige, meeting her on the bed and tucking my face into the crook of her neck, draping one leg over her body and hugging

her tight.

Mariah sighs contentedly, then kisses my forehead. “Give me a minute here and I’ll return the favour.”

I tense. “Oh. You don’t have to.”

“No, really, I want to.”

“That’s okay. I’m fine. I’m... good.” I try to brush her off, keeping my tone light.

Mariah pulls away a bit, trying to look at me, but I hide my face against her. “It’s really not a big deal, I’d love to—”

“I really don’t want you to go down on me,” I say with finality, all teasing gone from my voice.

Mariah tenses. “Is... everything okay? I mean, I’m sorry if I pressured you to...”

“No, it’s not that.”

She waits a long moment, neither of us moving, barely breathing. Finally, she tries again. “You don’t have to tell me, but

I promise, whatever it is, I won’t judge.”

I swallow. Steeling my resolve, I sit up on the bed. Tucking my knees to my chest and hugging myself, I look at where she

lies, pulling the blankets up a little higher against the chill of me no longer being at her side.

“You trusted me,” I say. “So, I’ll trust you.”

“Did something... happen?” Mariah’s brows furrow with concern.

“No. Thankfully, nothing like that has happened to me,” I assure her. “It’s more like a... lack of something happening, if you will.”

Her worry shifts to confusion.

I sigh. “What you just did? How you came like that? It was so fucking beautiful and amazing and... I can’t do it.”

“You can’t come?”

I give my head a subtle shake. “Nope.”

“Like, ever?”

I think for a moment. “I think I’ve orgasmed, like once? Maybe?”

“If you think you’ve done it, then you probably haven’t,” she states.

“It wasn’t anything like that,” I say, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb as if her earth-shattering orgasm is somewhere

behind us. “I wish I could do anything half that incredible. But I can’t. Not with other people, not with myself. I’ve tried,

but I just end up getting sore and tired before I get anywhere. I end up just faking it, with everyone, and I...” I bite

my lip. Mariah rubs my leg, encouraging me to continue. “I don’t want to fake it with you.”

“Aw, love.” She squeezes my calf.

“With my first boyfriend...” I swallow against a flood of sudden emotion, hoping that if I open myself up to her emotionally

it will be a fraction of how I felt when she opened herself up to me physically. I can’t share my body with her, not in the

way she shared hers with me, but I can share my mind. And I hope that’s enough. “My first real boyfriend—who I had sex with for the first time—after a few times he complained. He told me I was too quiet, too boring.

I had no idea what he was talking about, I was just being myself.

So he showed me some porn, and I was like, this isn’t real.

It’s performative. They’re acting. I was confused because I thought I wasn’t supposed to fake it, you know?

I may have been a newb in the sack, but I’d read Cosmo magazines.

But he said that’s what turned him on, that’s what he wanted, so I did it. I went along with it, making all the

noises the professionals do, and he was happier with it, but it totally ruined it for me. I felt like... like...”

“Like it was all about him and not about you?”

I nod, the tension in my chest releasing slightly, knowing she understands.

Mariah nods. “I feel the same way. In a different way, but the same. I come very easily. Like, I’ve orgasmed going down a

bumpy road before.”

“Lucky,” I tease.

She smiles at me, then shrugs. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s pretty great.”

“Right? And it’s so frustrating because I want to, and I try to, I have all sorts of toys. Every guy I’ve ever told decides

it’s his personal mission to be the first, like there’s something he has that the others don’t, and he has some special key

to my vagina.”

Mariah laughs. “Oh my god, I can totally picture that.”

“And all the TV I watch and all the books I read always have these women who you barely touch them and they come, and I’m

like, what’s wrong with me ? Why can’t I? ”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” she states fervently. “It’s actually quite common. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Every person

is different. But I get what you mean, about men making it about them. For me, yeah, it’s easy for me to get off, I can get

off multiple times in one go, multiple times a day—”

“Braggart,” I tease.

She smiles before continuing. “But men, they always act like they’re the shit, they’re responsible for my body and how I feel,

and it feeds into their own ego about how awesome they are, and it gets tiring after a while. Why do they always have to make it about them?”

“Right? That must be annoying, too.”

“So I get it. Not the whole thing, about you not being able to orgasm, or being forced to fake it in bed with your partners so they can feel like they’ve accomplished something. But I see where you’re coming from.”

“Thank you.” I relax back into her. “It’s just, with us, I haven’t had to pretend at all. I act so often in my life—between

work, and making friends, and sex—and I haven’t done that with you. For better or worse, I’ve been myself.”

Mariah sits up to meet me, our bare chests touching, her wild blue curls falling to the side of her face. She tucks a strand

of hair behind my ear then nuzzles her nose against mine. “I know what it’s like to pretend to be different than you are,

and I don’t want that for you. I like being honest with each other. That’s the only way I ever want it to be. And if you don’t

want me going down on you, or touching you at all, that’s fine. I respect that, and I’ll honour your wishes. I’m happy to

be your pillow princess.”

I giggle at the term.

Mariah kisses me softly, lips hovering. “But just know that I’d love to enjoy your body, to show you how beautiful you are,

and I wouldn’t expect anything in return. You wouldn’t have to react. There wouldn’t be a goal in mind, an end game, anything

I’d need from you. It would just be you and me, and not a care in the world, and whenever you’d want me to stop you could

just give my hand a squeeze and I would. Okay?”

I think it over, about how nice that sounds, how great it would be to feel her on me the way I felt her. But I’m not ready

to share myself with her in that way. An anxious vise grips my chest, imagining her working so hard to bring me pleasure,

her disappointment when she can’t, moving on to someone else who can make her feel that same rush of excitement as I did when

I was with her.

Mariah nuzzles her nose into my cheek, and I can’t help but smile, my thoughts going back over her words and settling on something else she said, repeating it over and over, the anxious ball in my stomach slowly being replaced by a warm glow. “I like not having a goal. I like just being with you.”

She nods, kissing down my neck, murmuring against my skin. “I know what you mean.”

I pull her closer, nuzzling my nose into her hair. “If I’d known it was like this with a woman, I’d have tried it a long time

ago.”