The fuel light came on 25 miles back. I think there’s a gallon left in the tank whenever the light comes on. Another glance at the dials and some more rough math:

I reckon she’ll do 35 miles to the gallon out in the open, maybe a little more. 10 more miles. 50 miles per hour, I could be good for another 12 minutes, maybe a couple more.

I resign myself to fate, suddenly remembering something you once confided in me, something so obscure and all those years ago. You said you had a tiny clitoris. I think you wanted to help me feel less insecure or less intimidated.

I recall you saying how you were jealous of all those women who have really big ones. That it wasn’t fair they could so easily reach their climax, and quickly, with just a few flicks of a good tongue or the vigorous rub of some eager fingers, else the deep stroke of a good hard cock.

Looking back, in the beginning, I felt so intimidated, so sexually inexperienced, and I was so embarrassed about my inexperience. I was like a frightened child inside, terrified. And I knew I couldn’t fake experiences I didn’t have.

And neither could I confess my fear. I didn’t have the words, they wouldn’t form in my head, and so in our early days I often felt sad, or ashamed. And realizing how, whenever I failed, I’d leave you frustrated and fed up.

Privately I ached to learn how to bring you to a swift climax with my tongue, and I would curse myself, knowing my tongue is tied and remembering how sometimes kids would stick their tongues out at school and I would be embarrassed knowing mine couldn’t do as much.

When I was naïve, I’d press my kiss against your sex and inside my confidence would shatter, my mind would flood with all the cruel voices I ever heard on the playground, the name calling and the hurt that children inflict on strangers, or on any of the kids that they see as different.

As our confidences grew, you began to bring toys into the bedroom, and I loved sharing the pleasure they could bring. I was fascinated by their ability to connect you with your climax, the effects almost guaranteed, albeit with a little patience.

Luckily, I’m a Scorpio, and patience is my forte, but so is jealousy and I resented the power and control these toys had over you.

Occasionally I’d catch myself confronting hurtful fantasies, thoughts of you getting your needs met by other men, real men. I was so broken inside back then. But for all my fear, I knew my passion was authentic, and that the light we were sharing was unlike any other intimacy I’d ever known. It still is.

~ XIII ~

Hypnotic, beneath your subconscious, you’ve just experienced a physical climax of intense proportion.

These deep guided meditation techniques have enabled your mind to open otherwise secret and hidden doors, entryways to the deep inner rooms where the source of your true sexual euphoria and energy, emanates.