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off, though I’m sure his skills are untouchable. I realized in those moments that he might be the most intuitive human being I’d ever met. Part psychiatrist, part psychic, part prostitute.
    I pulled away millimeters to whisper, “Kiss me deeper.”
    “You want to go further?”
    “I think so.”
    “Do you want to watch me as we kiss?”
    My pussy ached at such a thought. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
    Didier kissed me again, more insistent than before. Heat shot through me as his tongue penetrated, our mouths locked, his chin scratching mine. For only a moment did I freeze up from his forwardness. I gave in to the fear, to his maleness and his lead. His palm left my neck and I could sense it as he opened his pants. I broke away to watch. He slid his hand under his shorts, the flex of his forearm taunting me for a minute or more. I could see his erection growing, framed in his open fly.
    “You are always welcome to touch,” he whispered.
    “I know. But not yet. Not tonight.”
    He nodded. A deep shiver ran through me as he eased his waistband down to expose his cock.
    “You’re big,” I mumbled.
    “I suppose I am.”
    “I hoped you might be.”
    That earned me a mischievous smirk. “Then I’m glad I’ve pleased you.” The arm draped behind my shoulders shifted and he held my head gently as he began to masturbate. Putting his lips to my temple, he kissed me there, then down to my ear. His warm mouth took my earlobe, breath so close and ragged I shut my eyes, overwhelmed.
    His whispered words tore through me. “You’re going to make me come.”
    I opened my eyes and cast my gaze at his pumping hand. “I’m not doing anything.”
    “You’re here. You’re watching. You’re letting me show you all this, things no other man has been allowed to.”
    I felt near to fainting, my breathing as labored as Didier’s. “Let’s go to your bed.”
    He stood at once, erection tucked behind his shorts. He held his pants by the belt and took my hand in his free one, leading me back to his room, where the candles still burned.
    I sat on the edge of the mattress and watched the shirt drop from his broad shoulders, watched as he stripped naked. I moved to the far end of his bed and patted the space next to me.
    He sat. “How are we doing so far?”
    I laughed. “You’re doing just fine…not sure about myself. I haven’t kissed many guys. And I haven’t kissed those few guys very, um, extensively.”
    “I could not tell.”
    “Really?”
    A fond smile. “Really. I like the way you kiss. You kiss as though you are nervous about it, but curious. It’s very sexy.”
    I reached for his face and he did the same to me, cupping my neck. It felt so intimate, his palm on my pulse point as explicit as fingers on my clit. We kissed deeply and I gave as much as I took, tasting his mouth then welcoming his tongue, like a dance. We must have made out for ten minutes or more, until I felt woozy and nuts and ravenous, ready for more.
    I broke my mouth from his, lips and chin tender. “Touch yourself. Please.”
    We paused as he adjusted his legs, spreading his thighs and fisting his neglected cock. I watched with utter fascination as he grew, as his skin went from tan to deep pink, as his erection lengthened and his foreskin receded to expose his smooth head.
    This was the closest I’d ever been to a bare cock, and the experience was nothing like I’d feared. He didn’t look silly or scary. Everything about him was right. Everything about him made my body ache the way it was designed to, and I felt normal and functional, boring adjectives that are nothing less than magical to me. “Lie down.”
    He reclined, head on a pair of pillows, clasping his cock. I lay on my side, propped on my elbow, thrilled all over by how close we were, close enough for me to feel the damp heat of his freshly bathed skin and hair. I breathed in the scent of his covers and pillows, the old wood and the candles and his sex.
    I brought my mouth to