Love Novice (Completed) Season 1 In Ben and Am's Romance

Chapter 47: Game

Ben's hand moves on from the back of my legs to their front and reaches the crucial point. The towel doesn't matter anymore. I rest my head on Ben's shoulder, bracing for what's to come.

What comes is not what I need. I might as well be a female anatomy model used for sex ed in eighth grade. I give him a minute to figure it out. Two minutes. Nope. Still not what I'm looking for. My experience has been with guys who knew their way around female anatomy. Not all were stellar performances but they were in the ballpark and did their job with minor adjustments. With Ben stage direction is a must if I am to enjoy any part of it.

The hesitation I've never experienced around sex sets in. I don't want to offend him. He wanted honest and open communication. Honest and open communication, I chant to myself. I lean away from his lips.

"Ben?"

"Huh?" His cheeks are flushed and his voice has the gruffness it had when I woke up next to him in the morning. It's almost good enough to make up for his hand. Then the hand moves again, and I reconsider.

"I'd like you to stop, so we can talk about what I want you to do to me before I get blisters."

"That bad?" His hand exits from under the cover of my towel.

"Truth?" I scrunch my nose and make an apologetic face.

"Yes, please tell me the truth."

"Not the best eff—"

"Sorry." He takes a step back and rubs his barely there hair with the hand that was not under my towel. He extends the other one in front of him as if it's been cursed. "I should 've started with something less complicated. I'm sorry."

"Hey, we talked about it—no apology necessary. It's very fixable." I take his excommunicated hand and tug him to the bedroom.

"Which side do you sleep on?" His side tables are pristine with no trace of the clutter both of mine have on them.

"The one by the window." He motions to the side opposite us.

I get on the bed, making sure my towel exposes as much of my bottom and legs as possible, and pat the place next to me.

"Let's begin. This'll hopefully be the best class of your life. Or the first one in the series of the best ones delivered by yours truly." I put my hand on my chest. "You ready?"

"Yes."

"Kudos on trying to get me off first—it's not always the case. Second, you have located the right parts, and you get that there should be friction, but that's not how I like it."

I take his hand and place it exactly where I want it. I guide his fingers in the rhythm, encouraging him every time he hits the spot just right, explaining the varieties of speed until he gets it. I'm thinking less.

"Oh, Ben, this"—my moan interrupts what I was going to say. Blood leaves my brain and pools low in my stomach. My last conscious act is to remove my towel. My body sings, and my vocabulary consists of yes, again, I just can't, ah, like it, that, more and an occasional fuck, with the 'uh' lasting as long as my exhale. I've created a monster. No one learns this fast, but Ben's tireless and keeps doing the things that work, with persistence I've not experienced before. It's paying off because I lose it. Between waves of pleasure, I catch that Ben's still wearing his boxer-briefs. I nudge him away.

"Did I do something wrong?" He's not banishing his hand this time but he sounds concerned.

"Nothing. Could you not tell I liked it? But fair is fair." I shift him on his back. "Let me know if you want me to stop and I will stop. But I think it's time for payback."

He nods.

I move to take off his boxer-briefs, but he beats me to it. Heat rolls through my body. Ben in shorts was an image I'm unlikely to forget. Ben naked is a revelation. He's lying on his back across the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, and I'm grateful to all the exercise he does. I want to lick him, but I restrain myself, aware how that didn't go well last time.

"Adequate?" Ben glances down at himself and then at my heaving chest.

"Uhu." I let my fingers do what my mouth wants to. I place my palm on his chest and run it against one then the other of his nipples. His chest is firm and moves faster up and down under my touch. I press onto him to lie down, and Ben complies. His arms fold underneath his head, his eyes on my hands.

My exploration continues across his stomach and lower. His breath hitches. I keep my movements going, and his eyes close. Yeh, baby, I do know what I'm doing. I lie down alongside him and find his mouth with mine. He shifts to enjoy both, and it doesn't take long for me to get him to the finish line. We're on the right track.

The cool air around us makes itself known after several minutes of post-release coma. I roll off the bed and head to the bathroom to clean up. Ben follows. We're naked, and it feels like that's exactly how it should be. My shower's quick and efficient, but Ben succeeds at picking up my nightgown, my booty shorts, and my t-shirt from the floor, folding them, and putting them into the duffle bag. When he's done with his cleanup, and we are both dry but very much naked, we crawl under the covers.

"I liked third base," Ben says when the lights are off. I press up next to him, finding a way to touch as much of his skin with my skin as I can.

"Well, we skipped the second one yet only reached base two and a half." I yawn. "But we have the morning to complete the remaining half."

"You are talking in riddles. Are you promising me oral sex in the morning?"

"I'm hoping we are promising it to each other if you are game."

"I'm game. I am definitely game."

Falling asleep on the five hundred count Italian milled Egyptian cotton sheets, naked, with Ben's solid body next to me might prove addictive.