Page 48 of Textbook Romance

He smiles but then he looks at me intently, his hand reaching down and lifting up the skirt of my dress, his fingers running along my thighs. I feel the pleasure of it down my spine and I arch my back. He maintains eye contact and I feel his fingers creeping up until they’re near my underwear. I can feel his fingers stroke gently against the material and I gasp which makes him laugh gently, and he kisses me again which makes me part my legs a little further. When he pushes the material to one side and slips his fingers inside me, he inhales deeply with me, and I can’t bear to contain that feeling anymore. I moan loudly, my body shaking, trying to remember what this is. And as his fingers glide inside me, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but all I know is that it’s time to let go. It’s time to feel all of it and fucking enjoy it.

Jack

I wake up that night at about two in the morning, my body spooned around Zoe’s and the curve of her shoulder rested against my chin. Through a gap in the curtains, I can see a slice of the River Thames twinkling, shapes from the room reflected in the window. I kiss Zoe’s shoulder gently and hold her close to me, putting a hand around her waist and trying to doze back to sleep.

‘You’re up…’ I hear her mumble.

‘I’m sorry. Is it pressing against you? Did it wake you?’

I feel her body shudder with laughing. ‘Go to sleep, Jack.’

I kiss her shoulder again. ‘I can’t. I think I’m in some sort of state of hyperarousal.’

‘That’s a clever way of saying you’re horny.’

‘I’m horny? I believe you were the one who initiated the second time.’

‘And the third time…’

I feel her body shudder with laughter again and my arms hold her tighter, my hands wandering around her midriff. There were points where I could tell she was self-conscious about her body. You saw it in the way she asked to dim the lights, the way she scrambled for the covers, but she didn’t need to feel that at all. I guess I saw things through a very different, adoring gaze. Maybe caressing her stomach will convince her of that much. Our feet meet at the bottom of the bed, the sheets twisted around our bodies.

‘So, is this how you normally are when you have sex? So…’

She goes quiet.

‘You were pretty insatiable.’

She turns to me, her face grimacing. ‘I’m sorry. Was it a bit much? A bit full-on? It may have been the alcohol.’

I smile and give her a kiss to placate her. ‘It felt good to be wanted, to see you enjoying yourself. I may need some sort of intravenous fluids, though.’

‘I may need a massage tomorrow. I think I pulled something in my calf.’

‘Well, you were the one who wanted to attempt that position,’ I say, smiling. I run my fingers along her arm, liking the softness and feel of her skin, the way our legs are still messily entangled. I like how she seems so comfortable next to me, how her face shines in some sort of sex afterglow. ‘So, was it OK? Are you OK?’ I ask her and, again, she looks up at me, curious by my concern.

‘I mean, it was alright,’ she says, and she tips her head back laughing. I put a hand to her waist, tickling her until she squeals. ‘It was pretty extraordinary. Thank you.’

‘The pleasure was all mine.’ Our eyes meet and there’s a smile. Only the two of us will know what ever happened here and it’s nice to have that shared secret with her, only her. ‘So formal. It was anything but…’ I say, kissing her collarbone.

‘And given that your frame of reference is larger than mine, was it OK for you? Really?’ she asks.

I cock my head to one side. ‘It was pretty fucking fantastic. I don’t know why’ – I say, my kisses working down to her stomach – ‘but you really turn me on.’ I love how kissing her makes her body tense, how her nipples harden under my tongue. I loved the way her body gave into me and shook when I was inside her, the way she exhaled in relief, my hand holding down hers above her head, not letting her move, getting her to relent to the feeling. I love that I could do that for her. But there’s something about being with her that keeps me here. Lying here with her just feels right, there’s no sense of panic or worry, it feels strangely calm.

‘Can I ask a question?’ she asks.

‘Shoot.’

‘Like, how many people have you…’

‘Slept with?’

‘I’m sorry – is that weird and awkward? I don’t want to slut shame you.’

I laugh. ‘It’s actually not that many – about twenty. Would it be ungentlemanly to ask you for your stats?’

She puts her hand up to the air, all her fingers outstretched. ‘I met Brian when I was at uni so, you know, it’s not that many.’

‘Well, it didn’t show in case you were worried. You know, sex is sometimes about energy. Get the right partner and none of your experience or history means a thing, really… And I think we had very, very good energy…’

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