Intimate

Lying back so the full aura from the lamp lights the area in question, I spread my legs and let him see. Yes, he has licked me out frequently but, normally, I try to face away from the lights. I want him to do it but I don't want him to look at it. I want to hide it. The parts of me that I view as somehow shameful. That I won't look at if I can help it.

He reaches out his finger and watches it trace its journey across the soft folds of flesh. Caressing and probing. I can feel the familiar urges of panic start to set in but my mind is laughing at myself, cutting off the Voice inside my head that whispers its disgust. I start to relax beneath his touch, lying back and letting go. The soft sensation of his tongue replacing the finger and the prickle of his stubble is greeted with the softest of sighs as I give myself to him. Opening. Accepting.

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