Page 22 of Foreplay on Words

“Run your finger down the side of your face slowly,” she instructed as she turned to face me and tucked one leg underneath her.

“Why am I doing this?” I asked as I watched her skeptically.

“Just humor me.” I tried not to laugh as she made an impatient huff. “Now, close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Do it again and tell me what you feel.”

I did what she told me to and tried to think of the sensation I was feeling.

“A finger on my face?”

“Alright, smartass.”

My eyes were still closed, but I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me.

“Fine,” she huffed, and I jumped, feeling a tickling sensation along my sideburn and over the stubbly hair on my cheek.

“Tell me what you feel,” she said in a low, sultry voice. Or maybe I imagined it was sultry.

“Warmth...it’s soft...makes my breath catch in my chest.”

“Good. Keep thinking of how the touch makes you feel,” she urged. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I was strangely enjoying it.

Her finger traced across my lips, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise in response. It slowly trailed to my jaw and behind my ear. Her fingers cupped the back of my neck, and my mouth went dry. I felt a stirring in my groin as her thumb slowly trailed up and down, tickling the hair above my collar.

“Do you get it now?” The sultry voice was back.

My head slowly nodded up and down as she continued to caress my skin. I was fighting the urge to open my eyes. I wanted to see if her touch was affecting her as much as it was me. My pulse jumped as I felt her put a little pressure on the back of my neck.

I leaned in and felt her hair graze my cheek, her hot breath caressing my face.

“You described the mechanics of their interaction. That was the physical action. You want to describe to the reader the sensations the actions cause and the feelings they invoke.” Her voice was low, and I felt my heartbeat pick up further in response to the warmth of her breath against my ear.

My entire body was fully aware of her proximity. She smelled like fresh flowers and summer heat, her hair was soft, and the thumb on my neck felt like it had a direct line to my cock. The slow motions from her tracing the hairs on my neck was creating a chain of sensations I could feel in my whole body.

“I uh...” My voice was much deeper than normal, and I had to lick my lips before I tried to talk again. “I think I understand what you mean.”

“Good boy.”

Her hand disappeared, and when I opened my eyes, she sat perfectly upright next to me, like she hadn’t been whispering in my ear and stroking my skin.

“So, do we want to work through this blow by blow, or would you like to try to adjust it and then have me critique it?”

The already precarious situation in my pants throbbed as she said the word blow. My eyes were immediately drawn to her soft pink lips. I certainly needed to adjust something.

I meant the writing, of course.

“Can I try to see if I can fix it?” Once she explained it to me, I started to see where I’d disconnected from the scene.

“It’s your book,” she laughed with a shrug.

“I know, but if it got published today, the critics would eat me alive.”

“That’s why you’ve got reinforcements,” she smiled. “We’ll pop this cherry and make a man of you yet.”

I shook my head, laughing as I pulled my computer onto my lap and propped it up by placing my feet up on the bricks.

“My erotic literary virginity is delicate, and you promised to be gentle.”

I loved listening to her laugh. She made me feel funny, charming in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was easy to tell her what I was thinking without worrying about filtering it.

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