Nothing More Beautiful (20 page)

“No,” he replied, following my gaze to the
calendar.

“I’ve always wanted to go, and do
this . . .” I wrote down,
“Sex on the
beach
.
”

He read it. “I’ve heard that the sand gets
everywhere, even inside.”

I shuddered. “That would suck.”

“I would imagine it wouldn’t be fun.”

“But it would be romantic,” I said, staring
at the picture, almost losing myself there and then. I unpinned the
calendar and found a spot that I imagined would be perfect to roll
around, secluded and expansive, the waves continuously pounding the
beach, pounding, pounding, pounding.

“Maci?”

Vince stirred me from the reverie. “Sorry.”
I tossed the calendar to my desk.

“I take it you’re really into that one?” He
flashed his teeth in a provocative manner, or so it seemed to my
dreaming eyes.

“Yes,” I rasped, clearing my throat.

“This one might be a little extreme—I don’t
know.” He glided the notebook across the bed.

“Male dominance? Is that like whipping and
stuff?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, his voice
shaking. He cleared his throat to regain composure. “That’s not
exactly what I was thinking. I—I was thinking more like restraints
and blindfolds.” He held his breath, waiting for a response.

“Oh, okay . . . So like
bondage?”

“Yeah, I
guess . . . that sounds right.”

“Hmm . . .” I paused, unsure
what to say. Maybe this had gone too far. What kind of side was I
seeing right now? Threesomes? Bondage? I wasn’t prepared for that.
But that was the point, right? The reason behind this was to get
everything out in the open and talk about it.
I’m not a
prude
, I repeated in my head.
I can do this. I can be
open-minded. It’s only talk.
“So what would we do?” There was
an inkling of dread in my voice.

“I don’t know. We’d have to research it,
together
,” he emphasized, “and come up with a scenario that
both of us would be interested in. Of course, that’s only if you
want to. It’s a list of ideas, and we don’t have to do everything
we write down: it’s just to help us get started in the right
direction. To get us both more comfortable with talking about sex.”
He made an effort to comfort me, rubbing my back. “Don’t get
overwhelmed by the suggestions.”

I eyed the list. It was hard not to feel
overwhelmed—but I was also aroused at the same time. There was so
much to try in the world of sex; it was exhilarating to think
about. I went through all the actions that had turned me on in
movies, and then my mind stumbled on one of the more obvious
choices: oral sex. “I don’t know how to say it exactly, or spell
it, but I think it’s pronounced cunn-ing-ling-us.”

“Oral sex?”

“Yeah.”

He whipped out his fancy new phone and
searched for the word. “It’s cunnilingus, without the first G.”

I wrote it down. The word sent me near the
edge of breaking, the anticipation so hot and difficult to control.
Of all the things on the list, cunnilingus was what I desired most,
given all the praise by Danielle, Ashley, and Bridgett. It sounded
more erotic, more appealing than the rest, even though it was one
of the simplest of the fantasies.

After that, Vince wrote down
“Sex
outside
.
”
“That’s pretty much the same as sex on the
beach,” I pointed out. “At least, it’s in the same category. Where
at—like in a park?”

“Sure, maybe a park. Maybe a pasture. I
don’t really know, just outside somewhere, besides a hazardous
beach.”

“A pasture?” I giggled. “That doesn’t sound
romantic at all.”

“The cows could sing for us as they graze,”
he joked, but both of us knew how lame it sounded. “Or maybe not,”
he added quickly. “Back to you.”

“I think I’m out,” I said, regarding the
short, yet somehow daunting list.

“That’s it? Only five fantasies?” He
observed me with mock suspicion. “You don’t have any secret, deep
dark ones that you’re holding back?” The red of my face that had
been present all night deepened. “I thought there might be. You can
tell me. Look”—he tapped the paper—“I told you some that I’ve never
shared with anyone else. It’s okay if it’s super dirty or
whatever.” His encouragement melted my insecurities.

The pen scratched the paper as I wrote
“Role reversal, female domination
.
”
“What do you
mean?” he asked after I showed him.

I swallowed nervously. All of a sudden it
seemed like I had an excessive amount of saliva in my mouth and all
I could do was swallow it down. “Um—” My vocal cords seized up.

“Maci, it’s all right. Do you mean like
penetration?”

I nodded, trembling.

“With what? A dildo?”

I gave him a faint smile. “A
str-strap-on.”

His eyes grew huge. “Oh. Whoa. Got it.” He
was nodding and wetting his lips. “Well, I guess that’s only fair
that you would have that fantasy when I have the male-dominant one.
It makes sense. I’m not sure I could ever do it, just like you
might never be able to do mine, and that’s okay. It’s out there,
and we can talk about it.”

I slammed my face into a pillow. “You think
I’m a freak, don’t you?”

He snorted. “A freak? What?” He tried to
roll me over, but I refused to turn over. “No, I don’t think you’re
a freak, Maci. I guarantee you a lot of women have the same
fantasy, even if they don’t admit it. It seems pretty normal to
wonder what it would be like to switch places, I think.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” I asked,
my stomach knotting. I could tell he hadn’t, but that he also
didn’t want to make me feel worse.

He sighed. “To be honest, no, I haven’t. But
there are a lot of people out there doing a lot of different things
in the bedroom.” I could hear him grab his phone and it spoke with
beeps. “The term for what you want to do is called pegging,” he
said a minute later. “See, enough people do it that there’s a term
for it.”

I sat up and read the Wikipedia entry on it.
The article produced conflicted feelings—I was simultaneously
titillated and disconcerted. It was as though the thought was
heinous and immoral with a forbidden aspect that turned me on in
the hottest ways. As I read, Vince flipped through the
Guide to
Getting It On!
“There’s even a section in here on it. See?”

“Huh . . . ‘Bend Over
Boyfriend’ . . .”

“My point is, enough people do it that you
shouldn’t feel weird about it. And just because I haven’t thought
about it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just never entered my
mind.”

I took the book and folded the corner, a bad
habit of mine. “For later.”

He leaned in so that our foreheads kissed.
“So, does that mean you’re all right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’d feel more comfortable
if we moved on, though. For now.”

He gave me a quick peck, then returned to
the position he had been in most of the night. I sat in front of
him and put my back to the wall with crisscrossed legs. “So it
looks like it’s my turn. I have one that I’ve wanted to do for a
long time.” He scribbled it down.

“69 until you come? In my mouth?”

“Doesn’t have to be, though that would be
way hotter,” he answered. “There’s seven for me and six for you on
the list. You should think of one more to make it even, and then
we’ll call it good. It’s already been a few hours.”

I glanced at the clock, amazed. It was
almost nine, yet it didn’t even feel like an hour had passed.
One more . . . one
more . . . what else is there?
My body was
running too hot to think, all I wanted was Vince—more specifically,
his tongue. I wanted it all over my body. To speed things up, I
wrote down a generic fantasy, not really one I’d had before, but
one that others, most notably Bridgett, had discussed with
fondness. I jotted down
“14. Sex on a plane”
and showed
him.

“You want to join the mile high club, eh?”
he teased. “I can’t say I’m fond of airplanes, but that might make
the time pass quicker.”

“That’s fourteen: seven for me and seven for
you.”

He went to his knees. “What do you say we
cross one of them off right now?” The anticipation in his voice
reflected my own expectations. They were wound so tightly, I almost
jumped him. Then I did, throwing my arms and legs around him,
pushing my lips on his.

He hit the notebook, pointing. “This one!
This one!
” he commanded in a heady voice.

I looked over at the list, bit my lip, and
nodded.

V
ince wrestled off my
shirt, unhooked my bra, and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking
wildly. Freed, my nipples hardened as he squished my breasts
together, squeezing gently. He kissed each one in turn before I
yanked off his shirt, diving at his chest, kissing up to his neck
and sucking.

“Ah,” he moaned, and I released my hold. He
stood, threw me to the bed, stripped off my pants and panties in
one swift tug, and fell to his knees, pulling my thighs toward his
head. He pressed his nose against my right thigh and inhaled. “Your
pussy smells so sweet.” His dirty talk was intoxicating.
Pussy
, I repeated in my head. I had never called my v-spot
that but it sounded so right in the moment. I rose to kiss him, my
impulses running wild, but he tenderly pushed me flat. He ran his
nose down one thigh, above my clit, and up my other thigh.

The softness drove me crazy as I released a
moan. My legs squirmed beneath his touch as he began making a trail
of kisses back to my v-spot over my well-trimmed mound, then up my
other thigh again.
Wait!
A voice screamed in my head. Was I
really going to let him do it? He’d be the first man down there in
unexplored territory, but that was the point, right? To let go and
embrace my sexual urges—to indulge the fantasy.

Yes
, I motivated myself.
Yes, it’s
what I want!

The building anticipation nearly made me
grab his head and force him to my center, but I waited, patiently,
losing control second by second.

Finally his nose and lips gravitated back to
my—pussy. That was the word. He hovered over her, teasing her—until
his nose swirled around my clit and my body contracted, releasing a
giant shudder of pleasure. I groaned. I’d never felt so wet inside,
so horny, so lost in emotion and sensation. His arms wrapped around
my thighs, his fingers massaging as he continued to nuzzle my clit,
circling, circling, and then unexpectedly, he added his tongue,
probing my pink lips. My body clenched in reaction and I grasped
his hair. It was so soft and curly. I ran my fingernails along his
scalp while he licked up and down, my hips rotating with the
movement, around and around, unstoppable.

I glanced at his head between my legs and at
the same time his eyes opened, meeting my gaze. The burning contact
pushed me over the edge, and I screamed with euphoric joy. It was
so unexpected that I grabbed a pillow to muffle the noise. His nose
continued its assault on my clit as his tongue spread my lips open,
gliding between my pussy and clit. Each stroke triggered a wave of
ecstasy that started in my clit and shot to the nape of my neck. I
could feel my clit swelling, my lips opening, the blood
surging.

Then he bit down on the bundle of nerves and
my abs flexed. “Oh, God!” I cried out. I grasped the sheets so
hard, my fists hurt, but I didn’t care, letting the sensation build
and pulse through me. When he began sucking on my clit, seismic
waves blasted through my body, my stomach contracting as if I were
doing crunches.

Holy shit! This is incredible!
The
building sensation was so intense that I could feel the tipping
point approaching.

He suddenly released my clit, paused, and
then calmed his attack, kissing my thighs. “You taste so good,” he
said breathily, flattening his tongue against my wetness and
licking up in broad strokes.

He started rubbing his erection against the
bed, moaning as his tongue worked, swirling, swirling. I clutched
the pillow again, stifling another bout of screams. My wrists ached
from the torturous, yet glorious exertion that rocked my body.
“Vince,” I whispered. It was the first time I unintentionally said
a lover’s name—a real cry of heightened emotion.

“I could do this for hours.” He kissed my
lady lips, once, twice, and then pressed his tongue hard into my
clit and circled. He changed up the routine several times, and I
soon lost track of time, the minutes melting away, my body
contracting, throbbing, convulsing. My hips never stopped moving,
despite Vince’s effort to hold them in place, and soon he gave up,
his hands sliding to my butt, reinforcing the gyrations.

“Let’s see how you like this.” I watched him
wet his index finger, then sensually cup my pussy, massaging. I
closed my eyes, and he slowly dipped his finger inside, a little at
first, then out, then in a little more, then out again, until
finally his entire finger was inside, rotating.

My breathing calmed as he fingered me for a
break, then slipped out, startling me. He didn’t see my reaction,
his face rushing in for another round. My hands flailed about,
beyond hope of control. The building excitement regained its
momentum as his tongue danced with my clit.

My hips wriggled and writhed in pure bliss,
and then without warning, he changed everything, shoving two
fingers inside me, his tips curling back toward him, rubbing the
wall.

Every single nerve exploded in my body. I
screamed and screamed, holding onto his hair as tightly as I could.
A deep crimson swallowed my vision and splintered my world into a
million pieces.
Oh God, this is it. This is an orgasm!

And then my mind left me.

My body repeatedly slammed against the bed,
convulsing, my abs clenching so hard, I could scarcely breathe. His
grip on my thighs tightened, and, responding to my full-body
heaving, he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked. I thought
my lungs would collapse as blood surged to the base of my skull.
The intensity compelled my hands to my neck, my nails digging into
the skin.